Harsh Reality
by Zelos
Summary: Link is knocked unconscious during a battle with the witch sisters, Twinrova, what is he to do when he wakes up in a mental hospital? Finally, after a long 2 months, I give you: CHAPTER 13!! YAY! R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Harsh Reality

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By Sailor Zel

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Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda and you don't sue, clear? (P.S. I got this idea from watching an episode of Charmed. This fic took some thinkin' and some work, please be kind and review!

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Koume grimaced as sweat began to form on her brow.

"Damn that kid, he's too fast!" she scolded.

"He can't keep this up much longer," Kotake screamed over the roar of Koume's fire attack, "we'll get him!" Koume breathed heavily as the kid dodged again and the platform was ignited in flames.

"Link! Look out!" Navi shrieked. Link gasped and brought up his mirror shield, the waves of fire glanced off the shining metal and struck the ice witch. She screamed in pain then struggled to steady her broom. The fire sorceress, Koume, narrowed her eyes and glowered down at her foe.

"No more fun and games," she hissed, "now you're mine!" Kotake sneered menacingly and armed her broom, her sister following her.

"They're ganging up on us! Link, your shield!" Navi shouted, fluttering madly around his head. Link crouched down and raised the shield. The intense heat and frigid cold of the two witches' attacks pricked his skin and then the two sorceresses released. Link gasped, the mirror shield was useless. The colossal rush of fire and ice sped at him, the two elements tumbling over each other and merging into one lethal weapon. With the force of a hurricane, the witches' attack slammed their prey into the reddish gold-colored stone wall of the temple.

"Link! Link! Oh Nayru! Wake up!" Navi screamed desperately. She stumbled over to him and tugged on the golden bangs. "Oh please! Oh please, wake up!" she whimpered, huddling up again his cheek. She had faired better than her partner had; though her rose-colored hair was singed, and bruises and gashes doted her little, pale face, she was alive.

"I told you he's didn't have much time left," a voice said. Navi let out a gasp and glanced up. The temple witches floated above her, she'd (for the moment) forgotten about them. She crawled into the shadows on her hands and knees and prayed to the goddesses she wouldn't be seen. Her broken wing prevented any escape through flight.

"Gannondorf said he wanted him alive," Koume asked, "Farore knows why, he's awful troublesome."

"Gannondorf has something special planned for him though," Kotake said.

"Ah, yes, well we'd better not disappoint him," Koume said, "come along, so-called Hero of Time." Koume waved her hands, tracing invisible symbols in the air, and a bright light engulfed Link's body. The light was faint at first, then blazed into a blinding radiance, and finally vanished from sight. The witches cackled and disappeared leaving Navi alone in the empty room. The tiny fairy quivered as the numbing silence settled over her.

"Link…I've gotta get help!" she said, she opened her transparent wings and shuddered as a sharp pain stabbed her back and shoulders. "No good," she told herself, closing them up again, "I can't fly, I'll have to go on foot." The concept of maneuvered her way through the gigantic temple on foot frightened her. She'd never been so vulnerable to attack before. She clutched her arms to her chest and slowly began walking to, hopefully, the door.

***

"Link? Link? Wake up, honey, it's me," a soft voice woke him gently from sleep. Link tentatively opened his eyes and a face floated into view. An oval, pale face framed by long blond hair with sapphire blue eyes, a short, straight nose, and perfect, rose-shaped lips. Link blinked up at her, it was simply impossible and it just could not be.

"Zelda?" he whispered. She smiled warmly and kissed his cheek.

"Uh-huh, I came to see you. Just like I promised," she said. Confusion swept over him, befuddling Link's senses. What was she doing out of hiding? Surely she knew the risks of being out in the open.

"What are you doing?" he asked, "he'll find you!"

Zelda frowned, perplexed, and curled her hand around his.

"Who?" she asked furrowing her brow.

"Gannondorf!" Link told her. Zelda frowned again and released her hold on his hand. She stood up and turned her back to him, rubbing her temples.

"Please, Link," she said, glaring down at the floor, "not that again." Link looked around the room for the first time; the walls were an off-white color and lined by neatly made beds.

"Where am I?" he asked as Zelda met his gaze.

"You're here…at the sanatorium," she said.

"Sanatorium?" he repeated, feeling dazed.

"Yes," Zelda said, "the Three Triangles Sanatorium."

"Are we still in Hyrule?" he asked. Zelda shook her head; worry was etched across her face.

"No, Link," she said in a dark tone, "we're in Boston, Massachusetts, the city were you grew up, don't you remember?"

Confusion was a feeling Link wasn't very fond of, but unfortunately it was all he was feeling now.

"Boston?" he said to himself. He glanced across the room at Zelda. She was staring intently down at the ground, gripping the beaded handle of her satchel. She wore a blue denim skirt and jacket, with a tight-fitting white blouse underneath and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. Zelda smiled again and knell beside the bed.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Link froze, the tone of the voice was deep and harsh and very familiar.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Dragmire," Zelda said, rising to her feet. The tall man, clad in the long white jacket, nodded and gave her a pleasant smile.

"Wonderful to see you again, Ms. Kinnian," he said, "if you will, I'd like to have a word with you."

"Of course," Zelda said calmly, "I'll be right back." She quickly turned on her heel and exited the room.

"How are you today, Ms. Kinnian?" Dragmire asked.

"A little stressed," Zelda told him, "why is he in the recovery room?"

"Oh, he had another one of his…episodes," Dragmire said.

"What happened?" Zelda asked, concerned.

"Well, we're certain he began to hallucinate…"

"And?"

"He threw himself into a wall."

"Oh my god," Zelda gasped, Dragmire placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You have nothing to fret over," Dragmire reassured her, "Link is in good hands but I do hate having to restrain him, but you see it's for his own safety."

"I know and I'm sorry our payment's late," Zelda said, once more staring at the floor.

"Ms. Kinnian, I'll not hear another word, it's my duty and profession to help people. Besides seeing one of my patients walk out of this clinic happy, healthy, and sane is payment enough," he told her. Zelda sighed, "I just wish I could repay you."

"Hush, visiting hours are almost over, you'd best say your good-byes or you'll worry him," Dragmire said. Zelda nodded and stepped back inside the room.

"Link, baby, I have to go," she said softly, "but I promise as soon as I get off work tomorrow, I'll be by and see you." She gingerly kissed his forehead and left, leaving Link alone and baffled by the whole encounter. Zelda waved and was gone, her perfume still lingering in air.

***

Navi suffled along slowly, she had developed a painful limp in her right leg. She let out a long sigh and plopped on the ground, exhausted.

"This temple is so much bigger from down here," she moaned, glaring up at the pillars that suddenly seemed stories high. She groaned again and managed to stand. "I've got to help Link," she told herself, "I've gotta go get help."

***

Link tugged feebly on the leather binds but to avail. He'd been moved to the basement of the clinic.

"I don't understand it," he said aloud, "where am I?" This strange world puzzled him, he could hear roaring outside and sometimes see vehicles rush by the open window. Zelda had called this mysterious place "Boston".

"Well hello Link, how are you feeling?" Dragmire said upon his entry.

"You!" Link shouted, yanking at the manacles, "what are you up too, Gannondorf!" Dragmire sighed and eyed Link.

"I'm not up to anything, I'm merely making my rounds," he said confidently.

"What is this?" Link demanded, "another one of your deceptions?"

"I am not deceiving anyone, this is reality," he said.

"Bullshit! I know! You're trying to capture the Triforce and if you think I'll let you, you're wrong!"

"Link, I only wish I could make you understand, I'm not trying to capture anything, I'm just trying to help you."

"Help me?! Why in Din's name would _you_ want to help me?!" Link shouted, wrenching at his bonds.

"You're not well, Link, and as your psychiatrist I want to help you get better. But in order for you to do that you must stop believing in these impractical fantasies, sages, Gerudos, Sacred Realm? None of it exists. This is Earth, Link, not Hyrule," Dragmire told him sharply.

"This is one of your tricks! You know damn well that Hyrule does exist! And the Sages are the one obstacle that are keeping you from getting what you want!" Link shouted.

"I'm not the bad guy, Link," Dragmire said peacefully, "true this world is full of villains but I'm not one of them. I'm trying to help you but if you don't let me and keep resisting me then I can't do anything for you."

"I don't understand it, what are you trying to get from me?"

"Nothing, I just want to help you, that seems to be what you're having trouble understanding."

"I won't believe it!" Link said stubbornly, "it's all lies! You're just playing with my head!"

"I'm not playing with your head," Dragmire said, frustrated, "and this is reality, this is the truth, this Hyrule you speak so often of, is lies and falsehood. And I prefer if you didn't involve the other patients in your little "hallucinations". Dr. Kit has brought it to my attentions that you've begun telling Navi Wicket stories? Is this true?"

"I dunno," Link responded.

"That helps, well please if you are, I want you to stop, understand?" Dragmire said abruptly. Link glared angrily at the ceiling, ever so often jerking at his restraints. Dragmire sighed and started to leave.

"I am going to be so happy when the Sages seal your ugly, lying ass away in the Sacred Realm!" Link shouted.

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End of chapter 1

What did you think? Review! Please?


	2. Chapter 2

Harsh Reality

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By Zel the Stampede

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Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda, don't sue.

AUTHOR'S GENERAL WARNING: Some disturbing subjects (child molestation) are mentioned in this chapter, just warning you, so please no unnecessary flames.

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Chapter 2: Dr. Kit & Navi Wicket

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Dragmire groaned as he poured himself a rather large cup of coffee.

"Come now, Riles can't be all _that_ bad!" Kit said as she sat down at the lounge table. Dragmire grimaced and eyed the younger doctor. She was a young woman, in her twenties, with long, braided red hair and bright blue eyes.

"You have no idea," Dragmire murmured.

"Well, if he's giving you that much trouble, you _could_ transfer him over to my rounds," Kit suggested.

"You're a saint, Malon," Dragmire said, "but I can't do that, Link Riles is _my_ patient."

"If you insist," Kit said hesitating by the door, "but don't work yourself too hard, sometimes you can't save them all…"

"But you can try," Dragmire said glaring down at his coffee mug. Kit sighed and picked up her clipboard.

"I-I got rounds to do, see ya 'round," she said quickly straightening her jacket.

***

The hours dragged by sluggishly, and Link found himself being pulled down into the depths of idleness and boredom. Once in while, just to make some noise, he'd yank at the leather binds but they were as taut as they'd always been. The silence in this strange building was heavy and even worse then the restraints. Even the fan spinning slowly on the ceiling made no more sound than a faint hum, it was enough to drive a man insane. Link almost wished Navi was here, her endless babbling was a nice alternative to the pressing stillness.

"Ahem."

The sound was barely audible, meek and tiny like a child. Link glanced over in the sound's general direction. A girl stood in the threshold. A very small girl, with short blond hair and smoky green eyes, and very, very thin. She was clad in a light blue outfit, with pants that reached mid-calf, and a short-sleeved shirt with buttons running up the front. She smiled and walked up to the bed.

"Hi!" Her voice was very small like her stature. Link looked at her, baffled.

"Who-who are you?" he asked.

"Don't be silly," she said, "it's me, Navi."

"N-navi?!" Link gasped, he gaped at her and she was Navi but only in name. _His_ Navi was no bigger than his fist, _his_ Navi had dawn-tinted hair that fell way pass her waist, amber-colored eyes, and crystalline wings that reflected light like a prism. This Navi was human.

"Sorry, I had to come out so late!" Navi said, "I had to sneak out! Sneaking out is fun though! Did you have to sneak around a lot in Hyrule?"

Link paused, "How do you know about Hyrule?"

"You told me, silly," Navi smiled, "you told me stories about your adventures and saving the six sages! And Princess Zelda! And Gannondorf!" Navi grinned and got a far-off look in her green eyes. "It must have been fun, Link, to be a hero…"

Link lay back on his pillow, recalling with grim sobriety what it was really like to be the so-called Legendary Hero of Time and the difficult task of carrying the burden of that title.

"So what happened?" Navi inquired, her voice stirring Link from the depths of his thoughts.

"What happened?" Link asked puzzled.

"Did you fight Twinrova and win?" Navi asked rapid-fire. Link's heart sank as he recollected the battle with the two Gerudo witches.

"Well," Link started, "while I was confronting them…the two witches combined their efforts and gained up on me. They fired a blow and…"

"And…what?" Navi asked impatient.

"I died."

The brief statement was followed by a lengthy silence.

"You…died?" Navi said more to herself then Link.

"Yes…I died, and when I woke up, I was here…in this room," Link said staring up blankly at the ceiling.

"But if you died, how did you wake up?" Navi asked.

"I don't know," Link said.

"That was a bad ending," Navi complained, "tell me about the Forest Temple again and Saria, and the Deku Sprout." Navi sat at the foot of the bed, waiting in anticipation. Link sighed and glanced at her.

"It started after I won the hookshot from the Grave keeper's ghost, rumors reached me that Kokiri Forest had become a realm of monsters…"

***

Malon Kit has always considered herself good at what she practiced and found giving her patients the freedom to leave the clinic, happy, healthy, and sane very rewarding. She, even, admitted at times that she loved her job, at least, until she met _him_.

It was a shame when he first came to the clinic; Malon felt it in the core of her being. He was young, barely out of his late-teens, handsome, blond and blue-eyed, smart too, according to his girlfriend. It was shame to see people go like that, and the funny thing was a car crash had triggered it. An awful crash and only one was pulled free of the twisted metal, alive, but he walked away from the warped wreckage with shattered ribs, broken legs, and burns crisscrossing over the once unmarred face. The scars were gone now all but those that maimed his mind. _'And that's how he got here…'_ she thought, pausing outside the door, the door with the scarlet number plates, 231. Malon smiled weakly, he wasn't her patient and her only business with the man dealt with Navi. Navi liked him, trusted him, and had confided to her doctor that she called him friend.

It distressed Malon, wearied her with concern for her patient. Navi was sixteen and like a porcelain doll, tiny, pretty, and fragile. It frightened Malon and she shuddered to think of what _could_ happen to little Navi alone with _that_ man.

Malon sighed, suddenly the room seemed very dark and cold, and she felt helpless. The building had a mysterious air about it, ancient and old as it was, it had its own shadows lurking in its basements and closets. Malon frowned, hugging her arms as she rose, _'This place gives me the creeps sometimes.'_

***

"The forest temple is definitely my favorite!" Navi squealed with glee, her face fell, "I didn't like the shadow temple though, all those vampire-things." She shuddered, "Scary."

Link laughed, that was just what his Navi had thought, she hates re-deads.

"Hey!" Navi's face was suddenly hovering over his, her short blond curls tumbling over her shoulders, "I wanted to show you something! I drew it just for you!" She smiled and began fiddling with the shackles, easing them free.

"Come on," she said as the last bind was picked loose. Link gulped and reluctantly followed. "Don't worry," Navi assured, "the nurses and everybody are down stairs as long as we don't wake Mr. Rauru, we're fine."

The girl silently tiptoed past a room with the door cracked ajar, an elderly man slept within occasionally murmuring 'hellfire' and 'damnation' in between rolling snores.

"_That's_ Mr. Rauru," Navi hissed, "he always shouting and likes to tell Dr. Dragmire to go to hell and such." Link snickered as Navi gently pushed the door aside. The quarters within were quaint, a small bed, table, a lamp, and a variety of illustrations mounted on the wall with scotch-tape. The vivid images registered in Link's memory, Hyrule, they were pictures of Hyrule. A gallery of Hylian landscape and populace was displayed upon the wall. Kokiri Village, Zora's Domain, Goron City, Gerudo Valley, Hyrule Castle Town, the castle and Kakariko village, each filled with the race that dwelled there. Zelda and her sages watched with sightless, painted eyes and the elusive Sheik fixed his audience in a ruby gaze. In the up-most corner, Gannondorf resided, cold and hard in the artist's rendering.

"Do you like them?" Navi asked brightly, "Dr. Kit finally let me put them on my wall!"

"They're very nice," Link breathed, they were _breath-taking_, every brush-stroke and pencil-sketch, "Amazing, Navi. Where did you learn to draw like that?"

"I just know," Navi said, leafing through a pile of sketches, "I have others, wanna see?" Link nodded as Navi handed over the loosely organized collection of papers. Pictures came to life under Navi's artistic hand, gunmen in red coats with saffron-tinted shades, half-finished elves, angels with three wings and dragons with glided scales.

"Wow, Navi, these are fantastic," Link marveled.

"Dr. Kit says they're good too," Navi said with a nonchalant shrug. Link sighed heavily, wondering how a girl like Navi had ended up in a dreary place like this.

"Navi?"

"Hmmm?" she'd gone back to doodling the rough figure of a dancing child with a large hat splashed with huge flowers and carved flute.

"When did you first come here?" Link asked slowly. Navi's pencil stilled, "When Momma died…after Daddy hurt me." The silence chilled Link and gradually Navi's pencil was at its scribbling again.

"Do you-" Link was hesitant, "ever think about leaving?"

"No," Navi said easily.

"Why not?"

Navi was quiet again, her drawing discarded on the bed, cradling her knees to her chest.

"Because…I'm safe from Daddy here." Her voice was flat, suddenly devoid of its light and spirit. Link swallowed, this world, wherever it was, was darker than his Hyrule or what he knew of it.

"Link," Navi asked tentatively, "you're my friend, right?"

"Of course!" Link said. Navi smiled, "Good, I like having a friend."

~~~~~~~

End of chapter, chapter 3 will be along shortly, Author's honor.

Please review.

Zel 

Coming Soon:

Chapter 3: Spilled Milk


	3. Chapter 3

Harsh Reality

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By Zel the Stampede

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Chapter 3 is here at last! The nice reviews are much appreciated. Much thanks to those kind enough to show their support. You guys are great. (I didn't know so many people liked this story!)

Disclaimer: I, in no way, own the Legend of Zelda and all related trademarks. (Don't sue)

R&R!

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Chapter 3: Spilled Milk

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The next day dawned with a cold silver glory that spilled into Link's room, bringing down the weight of this icy reality. A nurse had crept in the night before and forced a bitter-tasting pill down his throat, followed by a gulp of water with a sharp metallic taste. And now everything was hazy, blurring in and out of focus, as the room swam and Link's head throbbed.

His eyes were heavy, dry and bloodshot, and all Link wanted to do was sleep, slip into the dark of his dreams. Zelda came that afternoon, haunting the room like a silent nightmare. Red botched her cheeks as she cried, murmuring about money and the lack there of and his 'goddamn fantasies' until Gannondorf, incredibly sober in the off-white jacket, led her away.

***

The pencil was moving fervently, cutting dark lines across the white parchment as Navi worked, forcing the image in her mind onto the paper. She whimpered red and shadows flashing before her eyes as the pencil trembled, the lead tip snapping from too much pressure.

She gasped, briefly mourning the broken pencil before stretching across her bedside table to the cup that held several others, sharpened and ready for use. The table jarred as she struck it just by accident, sending the glass of milk teetering on its edge.

The glass exploded, scattering glistening fragments as the puddle gathered on the floor and Navi froze. The shadows dancing off the wavering surface as shivers trickled down her spine.

Somewhere, a long time ago, a glass broke.

Navi shuddered, muffling sobs.

Somewhere someone roared someone huge and terrifying. A massive giant of a man, strong and terrible, with fists like brick that rattled the one who broke the glass.

"No, no, no."

That shadowy man chuckled, dark and sinister.

****

"_Noooooooooooooo!"_

Malon started, rising to her feet, as dark coffee slopped over the table, drenching patient files carefully penned in black ink, "Navi!"

***

Link groaned, slowly rolling over, somebody was screaming.

"_God! Please **HELP ME!"**_

Drugged far beyond the point where his mind could possibly register the sound, Link sighed heavily before drifting into oblivion. The terrible shrieks rippling through the building smothered by the shriveled old man across the hall, "Shut the infernal child up, God damn you!"

The mind is a silvery vortex of scattered thoughts, remnants of dreams and flames of memory. Navi was crying, screaming over Rauru's howls of 'fire' and 'brimstone'.

"_Oh god, oh god! STOP!_"

Malon grunted, slammed up against the wall as Navi thrashed.

"Quiet, Navi," Malon soothed, "Calm down!"

"**_STOP_** _please!_"

"Quiet now!" Navi whimpered as she crumpled, trembling as she gripped Malon's robin's-egg colored jacket.

"Oh god, make him leave. Please _make him leave_," Navi stammered through her sobbing.

"He's gone," Malon assured, stroking her tear-streaked and flushed cheeks, "no one can hurt you here." Navi hiccuped, drying her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. "That's a girl," Malon said gently, "perhaps that's enough drawing for today, how about a little nap?" Navi stiffened another hiccup and nodded. Malon smiled faintly, tucking the edges of the comforter around Navi's narrow shoulders.

"If he comes," Navi ordered, "I don't want to see him."

"Of course," Malon said, drawing the binds shut, "I'll send him away."

***

In the late hours of the amber afternoon Dragmire came again. A bottle of the mysterious capsules stowed away in his pocket. Tracing a pen down a checklist as he paced over the sunlight-streaked floorboards.

In his bed, Link fell like stone. A man shaped from rock with rigid limbs and stiff joints that didn't move quite as they should. Heavy eyelids closed over pale blue eyes and minutes seemed hours.

"What did you put in me?" Link asked, his voice raspy and grating.

"Narcotics," Dragmire answered simply, "to calm you down." Link cast a weary glance at Ganondorf.

"Calm me down?" he said, "you're trying to poison me…I can hardly move." Dragmire smirked lightly, "That is the idea, Mr. Riles, the tablets make you sleepy." Link frowned, fixing the doctor in a faded blue gaze.

"Why…why won't you tell me what your plan is?" Link demanded, "you could at least gloat!"

"About what, Mr. Riles?" Dragmire questioned coolly, "what do I have to gloat about?" Link was taken aback, suddenly drained, the little pills working their strange magic on his brain again.

"I-"

"Go to sleep, Mr. Riles," Dragmire commanded lightly, "and perhaps if the weather's fair you may go outside tomorrow." The man had a way with words and when spoken with that deep, flowing voice Link stop wondering how he'd made himself King.

***

It rained. A misty shower whispering outside Navi's window as she slept. Her pictures hanging on the wall, smiling down with painted benevolence. She sighed, shifting as she slumbered, dreaming of gold fish swimming in the air and flowers bearing pearls.

The door had been left ajar.

A crack of blackness radiating from the dark corridor, seeping into the room. Across the floor a tiny river of jet snaked it way as the door loosened.

Navi woke and rose stiffly, "Ms. Malon?" She yawned, the red digits of the cloak on the bedside table flashing 4:15 AM. She rubbed her eyes, gazing out into the dark, "Ms. Malon?"

Navi gulped, clutching the blue folds of her covers and scooting into the corner, "M-ms. Malon? Are you there?"

A breeze crept through the room, rustling the drawings on the wall, "Ms. Malon? Link?"

Navi gasped as a huddled mass of shadows fell away from the door and slithered across the room. Hissing and clicking as it slunk, its body laced with musk and damp. 

The shade wore its skin like a tattered cloak and crawled about on fours with eyes seething red. It glided around the bed, grasping the sheets in gleaming claws. Before reaching a dark talon tipped in crimson to touch the wisp of a girl shivering and slumped inside the room's elbow.

"**_HELP ME! LINK! MS. MALON! SOMEONE!"_**

End of Chapter 3 

It will make more sense later, reviews are always welcome.

Zel the Stampede 

Coming soon:

Chapter 4: Puppet


	4. Chapter 4

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

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Disclaimer: Standards apply Zelda and all related trademarks belong to their respected creators and I, unfortunately, am not one of that elite group.

Chapter 4 at long last, its delay can be blamed on a faulty Escaflowne: A Gaia in Girl DVD and a severe case of "Oh-Dear-God-What's-Going-To-Happen" Syndrome.

R&R!

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Chapter 4: Puppet

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Rain came down in icy torrents as Link gazed up at the black spire jutting up from the broken landscape. At long last, Ganon's tower, the final trial. 

Lightening crackled in the heavens, striking the withering turret with fire-white spears, casting flickering shapes across the walls. The decaying structure mirrored Hyrule's glory once upon a time in the dusty shards of shattered glass and shredded threads of ruined tapestries. Rotting stairs spiraled up from the spoiled hall to the tower's crown, their flagstones trembling with the roar of the storm.

__

'I'm nearly there, wait for me, Zelda!' Link's footfalls echoed off the shriveled walls, ringing back to him as he dashed up the steps. The stair ascended further into a shadow penetrated only by the dwindling haze of light squeezing through the heavy door at the very top. An ancient door, moss laced over the cracked planks and the knob was edged with rust.

"Come in."

The portal groaned, opening as if by its own will to allow the intruding stranger entry. The master sword slid readily from its scabbard, glinting liquid silver in spite of the room's bleary luster.

"Welcome, hero, to my humble abode." The shadows melted, as Ganondorf appeared clad in his dark Gerudo armor, the brocaded cloak rippling with the slightest gesture.

"Where's Zelda? What have you done with her?" Link demanded.

"So hasty," Ganondorf sighed in disdain, "but does a rivalry such as ours really require formalities?" The master sword slid past, nearly taking a portion of Gannondorf's side had he not sidestepped the blow. "Guess not," the King said coolly.

"I'll ask you again where's Zelda?" Link hissed.

"She's here of course," Ganondorf replied, waving at the high, shadowy rafters of the chamber. Link glared up at the dim crossbeams adorned in veils of cobwebs.

"You can't see her," Gannondorf went on, "because you don't want too. You don't want to see the princess for what she truly is."

"What are you talking about?" Link said sternly. Gannondorf laughed, "Poor, stupid, blind boy." Link charged, catching Gannondorf's torso in a wide arc. The King lay in two pieces, a dead, lifeless wooden thing, with splitters of wood scattered about the marble floor. Hinges held its joints, rusty and metal peeking from the elbows, knees and even the corners of its mouth. Strings wrapped about the carved hands, climbing from the limp, broken body to the ceiling beams above.

"A puppet?!" Link gasped, "How? What is this?"

"Reality," something whispered high above.

"Who?" A phantom garbed in rose and lavender silk sunk down from the canopy of darkness. Princess Zelda suspended by near-invisible threads, the hinges creasing the expensive satin as she focused blue-glass eyes on Link.

"This is Hyrule," she mumbled, stiffly raising a wooden arm, "an illusion, a cheap carnival trick." Link shook his head, "No-" The other sages fell from the rafters, hovering aloft over Gannondorf's shattered frame.

"Our world is not real," Rauru said gruffly.

"We are not real," Saria murmured, "And neither are you." Link stepped back from the marionettes, "But-I'm-I'm real!" Strings lashed out from the walls, looping around his wrists, ankles, and his neck, growing taut as they pulled him towards the shadows.

"No! No! I'm real!" Link grunted, struggling as he fought the threads' tight holds.

"Don't fight," Zelda said slowly, "don't fight what destiny has deemed so."

"You'll only bring yourself to ruin," Rauru muttered. The strings gripped his arms as Link tugged fiercely. Slitting into the flesh and bone, the threads tore his arm apart.

"A puppet's no good in pieces," Ruto said softly. The wires twined rigidly about his body. Blood, bone, and insides fell into a slow descend plopping like wet rags upon the reddened floor as the strings knifed through his chest.

"Good night, Link," Saria whispered, lashes closing over her glassy emerald eyes.

__

'No! It can't be! No!' The cord clenched about his throat as Link grimaced, feeling liquid squeeze from the wound, _'It's not! Hyrule's real! No!'_

"No!" Link jolted up in bed, drenched in a frigid sweat, the room swimming. Bile exploded in his mouth as Link hungrily gulped oxygen. The tip of his tongue was raw and bloodied he'd bitten it in his sleep. He swallowed, pulling a hand through the tangle of damp, golden hair. Just a dream, no strings, just a dream, no sages…his thoughts trailed off as he fumbled over the surface of the bedside table for that little bottle. He shivered, closing his hand about the plastic vessel so carelessly left in his reach.

Link grimaced, fidgeting with the container's stubborn lid; he wouldn't feel anything once he downed a few of the tiny capsules. Thunder rumbled and Link jumped, the pills flew across the tiled floor, into air ducks and under furniture. He groaned, groping for the lost tablets.

****

"HELP! ME! SOMEONE! PLEASE!" Navi shrieked. The shadow creeping along the crumpled sheets, shredding the delicate material with the inky crescent-shaped pincers.

Link tilted his head just slightly, cries drifting from the eastern corridor of the asylum. A lone wailing cut bitterly through the dark halls as a fistful of pills rained down on the floor, "Navi!"

"LINK!" Navi gasped, pressing further into her corner, "Malon! ANYBODY!" The shade slunk nearer, hot coals burning in its eye-sockets.

The halls were dark, crawling with shadows. Empty and desolate passages lined with the empty eyes of paintings on the walls and dim light-fixtures.

"Help me! Please!"

Link tore down the dark hallways as Navi cried, the air trembling with her terror. _'Navi, I'm coming! Don't-'_ the halls split here, branching off into separate wings as Link gazed helplessly at the crossroads. Navi wailed again, her horror vivid and louder this time. `Link veered down the left way, panting, his blood pounding in his ears.

A door stood ajar. A rectangle of blackness against the gray and Link faltered a chill creeping across his nape, "Navi?" The door rasped along the linoleum titles as Navi whimpered, crying miserably from her niche. She shrilled gaping horror-stricken at the wrinkled folds of her bed-sheets…yet there was nothing there. Rumpled bed linens and nothing more.

"Navi," Link said gently, cautiously approaching the bed. Navi shuddered violently tears coursing down her face, "Navi." Gingerly, he caught her shoulders as she went slack, slumping against him.

"A monster," she stuttered, "Oh god, a monster, a monster." Link held her close, resting her golden head on his shoulder, "It's gone, there is no monster." Navi sighed, sniffling and sobbing.

"Oh Link," Navi murmured, "I was so afraid…"

"What are you doing in here?!" Malon stood silhouetted in the square of white light pouring into the dark room. Link shrunk away from her flinty glare and Navi fixed blurry, teary eyes on the woman in the doorway with the giant telltale shadow of Dragmire looming behind her. Navi's jade eyes dulled, dilating as she slouched forward in a faint. Link swallowed the sticky lump forming in his throat as he felt the prick of the icy glowers.

"Mr. Riles," Malon began frigidly, "please-" she gasped as Link went sprawling on the floor, Dragmire standing above him. Malon swayed, steadying herself as she turned fiery blue eyes on Dragmire, "What-what did you do?!" Dragmire lightly cracked his knuckles, "Forgive me, Dr. Kit, but if I allowed him consciousness, Ms. Wicket's safety would be in jeopardy." Malon fell silent, glimpsing the growing purple welt underneath the fallen man's eye. "But," she started again, "was that-"

"Of course, it was necessary, Dr. Kit," Dragmire assured, "a patient's security are put above all things. Were you not worried Riles might harm her?" Malon frowned and stuttered, "But isn't Mr. Riles' your-"

"You can't save them all," Dragmire mimicked coldly, "sacrifices must be made to ensure the life of another." Malon stilled as the tall man swept by her, assigning two night-shift nurses to 'remove' Mr. Riles as he trudged down into the lower levels of the institute.

***

Navi shuddered she couldn't remember ever being so cold not even in the ice caverns. The bite of those wintry caves and Zora's Domain couldn't possibly compare to the desert at night. The sand gleamed like driven snow in the frosty moonlight while a crisp wind whistled over the barren wasteland. Navi sneezed, huddling close to the temple stones, the cold biting through her clothes.

It was never this cold with Link, he was always warm, and now he was gone. Whisked away to who-knows-where by those two witches all puckers and wrinkles. Tears gathered her amber eyes as Navi hugged her knees. With the stars blazing in the ebony sky overhead, Navi was sorry, very sorry, Link should have _never_ been taken. It was all her fault. She failed to protect her charge, failed to perform the duty she was born to do. Navi stifled a sob; she was a horrible fairy.

"I'm sorry, Link," she sniffled, "I should have been a better guardian. I should have-" Some many "I should have"s and not enough "I did"s. Navi trembled, teardrops stained her cheeks, "It's all my fault this happened…I wasn't good enough to be your fairy. I was never good enough. No matter how I tried, bad things kept happening to you. I just wanted to protect you and I couldn't even do that!" Navi sobbed, long and hard, curled up in the hand of the Goddess.

Dawn broke, caressing the world with her gilded fingers. Birds swarmed in the blue vault of the sky above. Navi frowned, _'Good, maybe they'll eat me and I won't have to fail again.'_

***

The nurses' station was unusually quiet and nearly empty apart from a solemn Malon feigning business, a collecting of medical documents and patient transcripts before her. Her eyes wandered listlessly over the neatly typed manuscripts though her mind was else where.

Her darkest fear had come true or seemed too, according to Dragmire's investigations. Malon folded her hands beneath her chin; a part deep within her didn't want to believe he did it. Didn't want to believe that Link, the man Navi called friend, had somehow _hurt_ her. Dragmire blamed the 'attack' on a drug-overdose after discovering remnants of medication scattered about Link's room.

Malon sighed heavily; her happy little sanctuary was coming to pieces.

***

The sky was dusky violet when Navi woke, casting a roaming gaze over the empty sands. She whimpered, in her dreams the battle had blazed up again, more terrible than reality, twisted by her troubled mind.

Navi dangled her legs over the rim of the Goddess's palm, what could she do? Being tiny as she was and crippled by her wing, she felt utterly powerless. More than ever, wishing for a big companion, someone Link's size, who would aid in her plight. Navi sulked, burying her face in her hands, Gerudo Fortress, Death Mountain, Kokiri Forest, _anyplace_ that might offer help was miles away. And there was the obstacle of being able to get there.

Angry sobs rattled Navi's little bones, "What can I do? Oh _goddess_, what can I do? Why do I have to be so _damn_ small?! If I were big…" '_Who would I be if I were big?'_ The cherry orb of the sun dipped behind the dark yellow hills, the cloak of night was descending once again. Tears beaded down her cheeks, helpless, hopeless tears.

"What can I do? Goddesses, help me," Navi breathed, "I cannot save Link by myself."

"Are you alone, fairy girl?" a voice floated up from the ground. Navi gasped, startled, gazing down at the platform below.

"It's you," she whispered, "the Sheikiah boy." Navi felt him smile beneath the cloth mask, "Yes, I, tell me, fairy girl, Link tarries…" Navi frowned, "Yes, he does…"

"Where is he?" asked Sheik, stoic.

"He-he has gone away," Navi said tearfully, "the witches took him."

End of Chapter 4 

I can never turn reviews away! Please send them to me!

Zel the Stampede 

Coming Soon:

Chapter 5: Garden


	5. Chapter 5

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter five everybody!

Disclaimer: Default

R&R!

~~~~~~

Chapter 5: Garden

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mirrors hundreds upon hundreds of mirrors. Row after row of shining sliver surfaces reflecting hundreds of Links. Each wandering the mysterious room, peering into the speculums, searching for a deeper meaning, a truth that escaped the untrained eye. Finding only walls of polished metal and glass.

Link stirred, still adrift in the rosy haze of sleep, his face hurt, a pain concentrated just below his eye bit with a dull ache, along with everything else. His memory of the night before was vague, reduced to scattered, broken images that flew from his mind's fingertips as he reached for them.

"Mr. Riles," Dragmire materialized, casting an invisible shadow over the room. Which vanished abruptly as he spoke, "How are you feeling?" Link mustered a half-hearted grimace, "Perfectly awful."

"That so, Mr. Riles?" Dragmire said, glancing down into the misty garden, soaked in dew and fog, below the window. Link swallowed hard, summoning up what little courage he had to dare to trust that man's word.

"Is Navi all right?" Link asked quietly. Dragmire rested icy golden eyes on his patient; "She's fine," he said casually, "Why?" Link paused, "Nothing." Dragmire's frown hardened to a stern scowl.

"Mr. Riles, you have feelings for Ms. Wicket, do you not?" Dragmire said, "If I'm correct, you two are friends?" Link nodded stiffly.

"I see," his tone was low, "Something-something happened to Ms. Wicket last night..." Link's eyes widened, "What happened! Is she hurt?"

"Ms. Wicket is well," Dragmire assured, "but it isn't her I am entirely concerned about. You see Mr. Riles-" Link gaped at the broad-shouldered man in disbelief

"You-you can't possibly think that I-"

"What I think is my own business, Mr. Riles," Dragmire said sharply. Link was horrified, wasn't this man supposed to be his doctor?

"I would _never_ hurt her!" Link asserted bitterly, "not _ever_!"

"Perhaps you would not," Dragmire said gravely, "but what if there was a side of you that would?" Link sunk down on the pillows, thoroughly perplexed. Dragmire sighed heavily and placed a bottle of the oval caplets on the table.

"According to recent tests your blood contained a high level of this substance," Dragmire went on flatly, "apparently some empty-headed medic must have left it behind! And an over-dose could have easily led you to-" Link froze, clutching at sheets till his knuckles were white.

"Are you-are you saying," his voice was trembling, "that I-but I-"

"It's merely a hypothesis, Mr. Riles," Dragmire responded, "think nothing of it." The doctor straightened and left, breezing out of the room, leaving a shaken Link to himself. A solitary tear glided over the pale slope of his face; _"It's not true! I wouldn't! I know I wouldn't! Gannondorf! He's playing with my head!"_

Nurses appeared, shackling him down as something sharp punctured the soft flesh of his lower arm, spreading a cooling balm through his veins as the world went gray again.

***

"The witches?" Sheik arched a fine eyebrow. Navi nodded and gazed down hopefully at the Sheikiah man, "Please, Mr. Sheik, will you help me save him?"

She felt him smile again, "Of course, fairy girl."

***

Navi was unusually silent, outlining a rainbow maze of entwining lines over a sheet of notebook paper. The radio humming over her scrawling.

"Navi?" Malon gently sat down on the bed beside the pale girl, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Navi replied, smiling weakly, "Is Link okay?" Her brow furrowed in concern. Malon sighed softly, "He's all right."

"Why-why did Dr. Dragmire hit him?" Navi asked, "It wasn't nice, he was only protecting me-"

"What? Protecting you? From what?" Malon said suddenly.

"The monster," Navi whispered.

***

Link was very quiet and very still for very long.

"Mr. Riles?" a new voice sang, a nurse sauntered into the room with the ivory walls. A tall woman with a shock of silver hair wrapped in a tight braid. 

"It's finally clearing up outside," she said brightly, noontime sunshine spilling in through the open windows, "Why don't we go out in the garden for a bit?"

Link gave a nonchalant sigh, turning away from the benign attendant.

"My name's Impa," she said politely, "I'm a substitute nurse, Alice isn't in today. Now, come on, Mr. Riles." Impa propped an unyielding Link into sitting position, shouldering his weight as she lifted him from the bed. Link, who really didn't feel like moving, leaned heavily on the poor nurse, who stumbled as they shuffled nearer to the waiting wheelchair.

"There we go!" Impa said brightly when all was said and done and Link was secured in the wheelchair. Impa smiled again and clasped the handles bound in worn leather. Link sighed deeply, outside seemed suddenly miles away as the chair rolled down the hall. He could hardly remember it and only three or four days had passed.

The garden was lush and green, with a patio paved with heavy squares of sandy-colored rock in a half circle. Clay jars brimming over with colorful buds sat in the corners and clusters of bonsai trees were strew about the emerald lawn. A marble nymph rested on her pedestal, a silvery waterfall cascading from the urn balanced on her shoulder. Her lips were worked into a funny, knowing little smile while gold fish swam about her ankles among the lily pads and reeds.

Impa grinned, giving Link a gentle pat on the shoulder, "I'll be right back, Mr. Riles, don't go anywhere." Link frowned, hearing an unknown brake on the wheelchair shift into place, _'Cruel joke.'_ Impa turned quickly and sped off, leaving Link alone.

***

"What monster?" Malon pried gingerly.

"A terrible monster," Navi said, never looking up from her drawing, "it crept into my room last night. I cried and cried but nobody came. And when Link finally came, he scared it away." Malon tucked a stray wisp of auburn back among its fellows, "Navi…did-did he hurt you?"

The pencil skidded across the floor, "No! No! He would never!" Navi said strongly. Malon grimaced, "Navi…tell me, are his stories real?" Navi cocked her head slightly; gawking baffled at her doctor.

"I like to think they're real," Navi said gently, "it's be nice if a hero could drive all your problems away…and they make me feel better. Ms. Malon, Link will come to see me today? Won't he?" Malon stiffened, "No, Navi, no, he won't."

Navi gasped, "Why? Why not?"

"Because," Malon said, feeling a weight settle on her heart.

"Does-does he not like me anymore?" Navi asked, somber. Malon shuddered that weight threatened to crush her heart in two.

"I don't know." Navi looked absolutely heart-broken, "But he's my friend! Why wouldn't he want to see me? Why? He said he was my-" Navi was quivering, heavy teardrops blurring her green eyes.

"It's not fair," she said at last, rubbing her eyes viciously to stop the flow of tears. Malon drew the tiny girl into her arms, tenderly stroking the slim shoulders. It had been Dragmire's orders, Dragmire's orders to isolate Link from other patients. _'Oh Gannondorf, they're only stories,'_ Malon thought sadly, _'Stories to make a lonely girl feel loved.'_

***

Wheels creaked as Link dozed, the flowers rustling in their corners. A breeze ruffled his bangs as Link forced his eyes half-open. The sun piercing his wearied eyesight. He groaned; the wheels creaked again and someone was humming. Link creased his burrow; that song, he knew it. Why was it so familiar?

__

'This melody is the song of the Royal Family. It proves your connection with Princess Zelda.'

For a moment, his blood was chunks of ice moving sluggishly through Link's veins as he gazed at the stranger beside him. A young man, barely older than himself, jagged golden curls and garnet eyes, Zelda's lullaby playing from behind the firm lips.

"H-how do you know that song?" Link stammered, breathlessly. The young man smiled, "The princess sings it all the time. When she's sad." Link's eyes were wide, taking in the mysterious boy. Link swallowed, trying to force life into his rigid limbs, this man. He looked…like the Sheikiah. Just like Sheik.

"You know Princess Zelda?" Link asked shakily. 

"Yes, very well," said the man who looked like Sheik, "My name is Jean*. What's yours?"

"Link."

"How do you know Zelda, Link?"

"From a long time ago," Link began awkwardly; "her guardian taught me that song." Ruby eyes met Link's; "She says so."

"What?" Link was puzzled.

"The princess," Sheik's doppelganger said slowly, "she talks to me." Link's daze deepened, "You…know where she is?" Sorrow leaked into his voice, somewhere Zelda knew he was here, knew that he had failed to protect Hyrule.

Sheik's mirror grinned slyly, pressing a hand over the pale-blue front of his shirt, he whispered, "She's right here. Inside me."

Link jolted as tawny-skinned nurse appeared, caught in a complicated dance as she fought to balance a stack of cream-colored folders and wheel 'Jean' back inside. She cursed beneath her breath and stuffed the bothersome files in the crook of her arm and pushed Sheik back inside the sanctuary. Unbeknownst to the hurried nurse, a single folder floated to the floor, scattering papers to the winds. Link squinted at a particular article, snagged beneath the gray wheel of his chair.

****

Name: Shosha, Jean

****

Room: 324, Schizophrenia Unite

End of Chapter 5 

Jean's name isn't pronounced like 'Jean' as in 'jeans' but JE-ANN

O.O Schizophrenic Sheik, Link really doesn't know what's real and what's not now, does he?

Anyway, if you like this story and want more, please review.

Zel the Stampede 

Coming Soon:

Chapter 6: Revelation


	6. Chapter 6

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm so glad everybody's enjoying the story! (I honestly didn't think so many people would like it.)

Disclaimer: I hate these things, standards apply and you know the drill.

Okay, a viewer asked me to write more content following Hyrule Navi and her exploits and so at least a good half of this chapter is dedicated to that, but remember, this story runs on two different plot-lines so they're like two different stories. (And writer's block has planted itself firmly over Hyrule Navi's future. Evil thing!)

Face – Vash is my beloved namesake!

R&R!

~~~~~~

Chapter 6: Revelation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Nabooru!"

The redheaded nurse started, nearly losing her mug of coffee in the process. Displeasure crept into her voice and she grumbled, "Yes, Doctor?"

"Where is Riles?" Dragmire demanded.

"Outside," Nabooru said, fingering the ruby hoop hanging from her earlobe, "The substitute nurse on duty, Ms. Impa, thought it would be best for him." Dragmire halted, fixing the R.N. in a pointed glare, "Who?"

"Ms. Impa," Nabooru said again, "you assigned her yourself!" She tossed the thick braid of fiery hair away from her cinnamon face and over her shoulder, "Anyway, sir, my shift is over, whatever happens is no longer my concern." Nabooru turned away haughtily, yanking on her coat before heading down the hall, two-inch heels clicking merrily as she went.

The skies were steel gray as Nabooru trekked across the parking lot, feeling through the pockets of her trench coat before pulling a set of keys from the beige folds. She sighed, pearls of rain striking the windshield as she forced the keys into the ignition, leaving the car on appliances. _'The weather's been so crazy lately,' _she sought through static and fuzz for an acceptable station, "Meteorologists predict more rain as a mysterious storm system has appeared over the city. Bring your umbrellas! Forecasts show as much as three or four inches tomorrow and cloudy skies-_'Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are'_-_'It's the End of the World as we know it!'-_" Nabooru groaned, "Nothing good's playing today."

She gave the keys another sharp turn, the engine roaring to life, and pulled out of the space, veering towards the exit.

***

The blue velvet sky was sparkling with diamonds above the vast desert, crystal clear and sharp as glass. Navi shivered, the spring water was ice crawling up her legs as she wadded. Thick-witted underlings, floating in their gowns of pink gossamer, placidly waiting for her to come to _them_ when _she_ was the one wounded here. Navi scowled, fiddling with the silken ties of her outfit, scarlet rising in her cheeks. _'I can't believe they made me-'_

"Come, Mistress Navi," one of the rose-colored healers said gently, "if we cannot examine the wound fully, we cannot properly heal it." Blushing fiercely, Navi picked reluctantly at the manifold of silver buttons.

"There's a good girl," a second said benevolently, touching the delicate area before trailing a slim hand over the shattered wing. A brilliant silver netting settled over the bruised regions, drawing the raw gashes closed again.

"All better!" a fairy said happily, Navi, still flushed, hastily tugged the lacy, spider-web dress over her head, huffing as the healers advanced on shore.

"Much thanks to you, Mr. Sheik," the cluster of doctoring fairies fell in a collective bow, "We've been asleep for a long time, thank you for replenishing our fountain."-Another bow-"If you'll accept her, we'll gladly send one of our sisters to aid you in your times of need."-another bow-"We pray you are victorious in your quest. Farewell." With a final bend, they vanished, all but one, a very small one, identical to her fellows, clad in the flowing gown of rose-colored satin with bells embroidered in the golden brocade and tiny, feathery wings protruding from the coral billows. Navi cocked an eyebrow, how did they fly with those pint-size excuses for wings?

"Feeling better, Fairy girl?" Sheik asked.

"Much," Navi rested aloft in the air above the pool, examining her reflection in the wavering surface below.

"Good, we'd better get moving." Navi nodded and turned to the healer fairy floating a ways from her. "Just keep up and try not to get in the way!" she scolded. The fairy hid her hands in her huge sleeves and nodded quickly. Navi hovered just behind Sheik's shoulder, "Good! Now come on!" The pixie gave another rushed nod and sped after them. Sheik rolled his eyes heavenward, Navi was herself again, a dauntless cynic.

"Tell me, fairy girl," he began softly, "Shall we take the road of pins or the road of needles?"

"They're both sharp objects," Navi replied after a while.

"Are pins not duller than needles?" Navi furrowed her brow, folding her arms over her breast crossly, "What are you talking?"

"The witches might be expecting us," Sheik explained, "We'll take the road of needles."

"B-but, what is that!" Navi asked irked. Sheik laughed, rounding about to the size of the Spirit Temple, "There's more than one way into this temple." The healer fairy's bells tittered nervously as she fluttered after her fellows. Sheik frowned, carefully examining a section of wall. Navi sighed heavily and glared at the unfortunate red fairy, "Do you have a name?" The fairy blushed, bubblegum-pink curls framed the porcelain face, and mumbled beneath her breath.

"What?" Navi demanded, cupping a hand about her ear.

"Aife, my name is Aife," Aife said louder.

"Geez, no need to shout," Navi said dryly. Meanwhile, Sheik traveled over the weathered brick with tentative fingers, brushing slits in the rock. 'If I remember, if I forget, and if I should die tomorrow, my words will always wait for me.' With a smug little grin, Sheik drew a small dagger from a hidden pocket and wedged it in the space between the bricks. The bricks groaned, the mortar crumbling as they slid away from each other, opening a wide rift in the stone and written in shaky Sheikiah writing above was 'The Path of Needles, beware the wolf.'

"The wolf?" Navi asked faltering.

"Oh, don't worry," Sheik assured, "he's been dead for ages." Aife was shaking like a leaf; red fairies didn't go on rescue missions…at least not without being safely inside their bottles. 

Sheik slithered inside the narrow crack, a cramped, dark tunnel lay beyond, it's end lost in shadow. Navi squinted into the black, "Hey, Sheik, why do they call this the 'Path of Needles'-" Navi stopped short, the air choked from her lungs, a withered skeleton, tattered bits of cloth clinging to the white bones, grinned at her, a jagged barb driven through its broken skull. Aife was white as a sheet, her bells singing as she trembled.

Thousands of spikes, filthy and black, a few splattered with rusty brown, jutted from the walls, ceilings and some from the notched floor.

"Answer your question?" Sheik smirked, maneuvering around the skewers with painstaking care. Aife could hardly move, rigid with fright, looking about ready to cry. Navi sighed and gave the fairy a shove, "Come on! We're too small to get caught anyway!" Her words gave the timid fairy courage and ever so slowly they continued through the Path of Needles.

"This tunnel will take us right below the boss room," Sheik said, slipping past a particularly nasty set of thorns, "and with any luck, we can catch the witches by surprise."

"And save Link?" Navi asked expectantly.

"Hopefully, if there's a 'Link' to save," Sheik answered.

"Don't say things like that!" Navi chided, "Link's just fine."

The tunnels were a sea of mazes an endless labyrinth branching left and right, each new corridor lined with the deadly spears. The passage twisted on, before halting the party with a dead-end, a solid wall of spikes.

"Are we lost?" Navi asked apprehensively. Aife sank down on the floor and did cry, smoothing away her tears with her silky sleeve, "Poor Mr. Link…"

"No, we're not lost," Sheik said gruffly, "just inconvenienced." The Sheikiah hardened with determination and mindful of the iron stakes, he seized one of the darts and delicately scaled up the obstacle.

"Be careful, Sheik!" Navi warned, Aife was crying again. Sheik flinched spines grazed his skin as he crawled towards the ceiling. A dark space stood alone unadorned with spikes and Sheik cautiously lifted the ancient slab, dust and grime raining down as the block shuddered. The stubborn stone gave way and Sheik eased it over the red-golden cobblestones of Twinrova's lair.

Fire licked the inside of his lungs as Sheik inhaled. Heavy clouds of incense shimmered in the hazy luster of candlelight while droning voices crooned wordless mantras. The chamber had become a witch's parlor.

"Now what?" Navi whispered, lingering above the hole.

"Tell me, fairy girl, what do you see?" Sheik murmured. Navi hovered a bit higher, her face lighting up, "I see him! I see Link! He's looks terrible…dead-pale!"

"The witches?" Sheik urged.

"They're chanting something, it's in a very old language, I can't make it out!" Navi said, straining to listen.

"Are they alone?"

"Yes, just the two old bats and Link. They must have put a spell on him!" Navi clenched her teeth and made a fist, "They'll pay."

"Revenge will have to wait," he said softly, "you two stay here." Sheik climbed out of the hole and slunk along the lower floor to Twinrova's platform.

"Where are you going?" Navi hissed. Sheik grinned, "To say 'hello'." Navi plopped on the ground, Aife barely visible over the rim of the shaft, "Good luck, Sheik, please save Link."

***

Navi was asleep, deep in dream, when Malon slipped out of the room. Lightly massaging her sore temples, passing a group of nurses discussing the latest romance novel or something over mocha lattes.

She opened the door to Dragmire's office, the man's retreat, central of all things neat and prim, "Ganondorf?"

"Here, Dr. Kit," Dragmire appeared from the bowels of the tidy study, a heavy volume of medical text in one hand.

"I spoke with Navi," Malon began, "she said Link did not hurt her, she saw a monster."

"A monster?" Dragmire raised a bushy eyebrow.

"Ms. Wicket was brought the institute for severe hallucinations as a result of extreme mental trauma," Malon went on dully, "so of course she would see-"

"An interesting assumption, Dr. Kit." Dragmire closed the book sharply, dust erupting from the aged pages, "but you know as well as I, Riles is highly unstable."

"But, Doctor-"

"Malon, please," Dragmire sighed heavily, "I do this for the good of the patients." Malon seethed, "I don't believe he did it, doctor." Dragmire relaxed into the leather armchair behind the giant oaken desk, centerpiece of his haven, "What makes you so sure?"

"Navi-Ms. Wicket trusts him very much-"

"How would that stop him?"

"Let me speak!" Malon ordered angrily, "he's her friend. She trusts him and I-I don't think someone like him could possibly do something so awful!" Dragmire frowned, "Dr. Kit, you recently got married, didn't you?" Malon started, "Uh-yes, a month this Saturday."

"I see," Ganondorf glanced at her, "You and Aydin finally tied the knot?"

"Yes, yeah, we did," Malon said, shifting her weight nervously.

"I'll bet he misses you," Ganondorf said gently. Malon was taken aback, "What-"

"You work yourself too hard, Malon," Ganondorf said smoothly, "you're a newlywed! You should be spending your time with your new husband! Not rotting in this old building-"

"But-"

Ganondorf hushed her, "Now why not take a vacation? Drive into the city for a fancy dinner? Or better yet, why not go away for the weekend? Just the two of you?"

Malon was stumbling over her words, "On such short notice! I couldn't-"

"You have nothing to worry over," he assured, "the clinic's in perfectly capable hands. I'll handle all the bugs in the system." Malon went to protest, "Dragmire, I can't-"

"There are shadows under your eyes," Dragmire said, "not very becoming for your complexion." Malon frowned, "You-you-Argh!"

The door slammed with a thunder that rippled through the halls, startling the circle of nurses gossiping.

"Ass," Malon growled, thumping a fist against the wall, "How dare you, Dragmire! I have as much a right to be a part of this as you do! Navi Wicket is my patient! What makes him think he can take my influence in the situation away?" Malon sneered, storming down the hall, "That bastard."

End of Chapter 6 

Not much longer now, everybody! About three or four more chapters and it's all done!

Please review!

Zel the Stampede 

Next Chapter: Misery Loves Company


	7. Chapter 7

sxHarsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: (I hate you, disclaimer! I hate you lots!) I own Zelda! HAHA! Now if you'll excuse me I'm late for my Compulsive Liars help course.

Chapter 7, everybody! The nice reviews are much appreciated. (Send more and I'll type faster!)

R&R!

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Chapter 7: Misery Loves Company

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It was raining again. A misting, depressing shower soaking the streets with its tears. Fat drops slid down Navi's window as she gazed out. Pencil and paper lying dormant beside her.

Armies of storm clouds were massing in the sky, black and sinister, their underbellies lit up with random flashes of bright lightening. The rain came down harder, pellets smashing into the window panels and Navi shivered.

Malon was pissed, filled with blistering rage and black hatred towards her fellow doctor. What the hell was he thinking? Since when had Dragmire decided he could control her through her patient?

The office was very quiet and very empty, Malon's silent fury driving away everyone and anyone who dared to enter the nurses' station.

"Dr. Kit?"

"Yes? What do you want!" Malon growled. The steadfast substitute nurse, Impa, was not fazed. Knitting her brows in a pensive façade, she concentrated placid crimson eyes on the doctor, "Ms. Wicket would like to see you." Malon breathed deep, shoving her anger down into the bottom of her mind, someplace where she could forget it until it surfaced again.

"I'm coming," Malon said, rising from her chair, "Tell Dragmire that-"

"What?" Impa wondered. Malon frowned, something else had been forgotten with her ire. She rapped her temples lightly with a finger, "Ah yes! Riles' medication." Impa smiled, "Don't worry, Dr. Kit, Dragmire already has me on the assignment."

"Good," Malon smiled weakly and headed briskly down the hall.

***

"Alright, Mr. Riles," Impa said gently, fitting a newly sterilized needle into the narrow glass vial of medication, "This'll only hurt for a minute." Link winced, the injection thrusting through the veil of flesh, piercing the vein below. Impa plastered on a fake grin, "There! All done! Sleep well, Mr. Riles." Link sighed, the narcotics casting the blurred shroud of sleep about his brain.

***

Navi hated thunder. Hated the fire-white flares and the clamor of wind and rain, she hated storms. Especially at night. When the black haze clouded her window, its darkness heavy with the mysteries and evils of the unseen.

It wasn't black yet, just an ashy gray.

Navi's room was very quiet, apart from the radio softly crooning in the background. Its hushed ripples of sound just barely touching Malon's ears.

__

'None is just where one pretends and won...ders 

Counting for a perfect world to mind...us…'

"Navi?" Malon began, mustering up a reassuring smile, "Everything all right?"

"I thought I heard something," Navi murmured, jaded green eyes fixing intently on the sketch slowly unfolding on the parchment. Her pen slowing as the lights flickered and dimmed.

__

'One can be a word that counts as lonely 

Two can be as lonely as each can be-'

The radio died abruptly, dropping off into a desolate silence that perturbed the senses. Malon swallowed hesitantly. Rasping breathes passing her lips as chills trickled down her spine.

Suddenly they weren't alone anymore.

***

Anxiety was overwhelming, devouring Navi in its stifling embrace so she quivered all over. Sheik had slunk off into the shadows, lost to her eyes, trailing his way across the enormous room. 

All the while doubt hammering away at her confidence with a sledge, what if they were caught? What if they died? What would happen to Link if she couldn't save _him_? Navi shivered, cradling her face in her hands.

"It's all right," Aife offered, "Mr. Sheik knows what he's doing. Everything will be okay." Navi frowned, crushing silent tears away as she blinked furiously. It was Aife's duty to comfort. Her sole purpose of existing. To close the gashes and patch the scars, smooth all the hurts and weariness away.

"Aren't you ever afraid, Aife?" Navi whispered cautiously. Aife cocked her rose-colored head, curiously eyeing Navi with her huge honey irises.

"I mean-are you ever scared? Worried that everything won't be all right in the end?" Navi asked, wavering.

"No," Aife said merely.

"What-what do you mean?" There was something about Aife. A strong belief and insight that Navi couldn't remember ever seeing in anyone, anyone but him.

"Fairies are supposed to protect people, Ms. Navi," Aife replied, "we have to be brave for them."

Magic is only a third actual skill, the rest is just for show. Or so was the blunt belief of the Sheikiahs who required only themselves and one or two runes too old for names yet still fused with an ancient power to conjure spirits.

But Gerudo priestesses and Hylian witches preferred their brushes with the occult to be as fancy and garish as possible. For example, seizing a dusky temple to perform their mystics when the back room of any potion shop would work just fine and then covering the antique cobble with gaudy hexes and ridiculously huge seven-pointed stars. It was all ludicrous to Sheik, born and raised on the aforementioned rationale. Yet deep down, within their Gerudo stars and voodoo, Twinrova had wisdom in their lunacy, a tact so dangerously sharp and razor keen it cut Sheik's mind.

The billowing haze of perfumed vapor stung his throat, burning all the way down, searing his lungs. Its smoky fumes pricking acid tears in Sheik's eyes as he peered over the lip of the landing. A lifeless Link sprawled over the red flagstones, haggard and deathlike, gazing into space with numbed blue eyes. The witch sisters, just opposite of their prey, mediated. With withered hands they drew the invisible marks of power, passing their knobby fingers through trails of lavender-shaded smoke.

The witches carried an amazing resemblance to vultures, with their huge eyes and beady black pupils, beaked noses, rumpled nut-brown faces, and long-fingered hands crowned with ebon talons. Hunched up in inky cloaks edged in dull, aging silver they were twisted little beings, seemingly too absorbed in their spells to take notice of Sheik crouched at the edge of the platform. Slowly, delicately, he eased a long dagger from the holster buckled around his shoulder.

Koume grunted, cracking her ancient knuckles as she stirred, "Can't throw a good ol' séance without a few mosquitoes slipping in, can we, sister?"

***

Malon shivered, silence and the stormy haze weaving a bleak atmosphere riddled with danger and fear. Shadows crept from their corners as the room fell to dusk. Cords of nameless fear strangling Malon's heart as it slammed against her ribs. Somewhere, in a distant corner, Navi whimpered, gathering unshed tears in her tiny hands.

"Ms. Malon, what's happening?"

Malon stiffened, she didn't know, her mind was a gray blank, and she didn't like it.

"I-I'm not-don't worry!" she said suddenly, "Everything's going to be okay, I promise." Navi's eyes gleamed with sincerity, she would have _loved_ to believe her, but something, a dark, evil-feeling something drew her eyes away.

Shadows crawled like black phantoms about the room, touching their fellows with smoky fingers. They _condensed_, weaving their black silhouettes into a mass of foul darkness. A rotten, bulky thing, horribly solid and terribly real, with skinny arms, a head nestled down on its shoulders, hunchbacked and crooked.

Reality seemed twisted, nightmare and waking twined into a ghastly truth. All that was real, _seemed_ real, was lost, knotted in the ruined folds of their faded world. Malon wanted to cry, wanted desperately to break down and cry, her heart smothered in terror's grip. The grisly black phantasm shuffling behind her, chills breathing down on her neck, frost and ice crawling down her throat.

It _dared_ her; in the core of its dark will it dared her to look, move her face just a fraction of a turn and see. See the pillar of darkness towering over her. Malon was afraid, pale and scared, and Navi was in tears.

Navi shuddered, tendrils of warm breath dying on her frozen lips while icy tears burning her down her face.

"Malon?"

"Quiet, Navi," Malon shivered, her voice shaking along with her teeth.

"I'm cold," Navi murmured. Malon sighed, her breath dispersed in the frosty air, "I'm cold too…" The phantom moaned, long and shaky, rumbling from the depths of its throat, "C…o…l…d…." Navi sniffled; its voice made her quake, it felt like fingers on chalkboards tearing her ears.

"Navi…" Malon began slowly, "I want you to run. Go get Dragmire." Navi jolted, "But Ms. Malon-" Malon frowned darkly, "Please…listen to me." Navi nodded, tentatively easing around to the foot of the bed.

"Good girl," Malon mumbled. Navi trembled, the freezing tiles eating into her bare feet. Malon sighed, hearing the doorknob give and a slender arrow of light spilled across the floor. The shadow shrieked, screaming as the shreds of artificial light clawed its misty bulk. It writhed, screeching, as Malon warded off a blow. She winced as those twitching, buckling fingers latched about her arm, the thumb over her palm and the four fingers around her wrist. Malon gasped. Acid! Acid! Its touch burned like acid, liquid fire was attacking tender flesh. The snowy skin shriveled, running and boiling, flesh-colored domes rising and popping, geysers of blood flowing from the blistered craters. Malon felt weak, the thing's fingers branding dark red bracelets of charred skin on her wrist. The spear of light grew brighter and the shadow withered, fading into nothingness as Malon clutched her wounded forearm. Crimson seeped through her tight fingers; the marred skin shiny and bruised, honeycombed with empty sores and streaked with blood. Dragmire appeared, blurry and vague in Malon's vision.

"Malon, are you hurt?" he gingerly picked her fingers from her forearm, frowning gravely at the sight of the ravaged skin.

"That," Malon started wearily, "was the stupidest question I've heard in a while." Dragmire smirked, "I take it you're all right then?" Malon narrowed her eyes to cold, sapphire slits; "Hell, I'm all right."

***

"You have friends with you, don't you?" Kotake hissed, "I can smell them." Her cave-like nostrils flared, "Fairies! Two." Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips, "Yummy. Sister, may I?"

"Of course!" Koume said, flourishing her wrinkled claw, "Now, how shall I kill you, Sheikiah? Shall I cut you open and tell fortunes with your guts?"

"Oh yes!" Kotake cheered, eyeing the floor for the telltale glimmer of fairies, "If my memory serves me right Sheikiahs are most accurate!" Koume grinned evilly, gathering the mark of fire in her palm, "Or should I flay you alive?"

***

Dragmire was skeptic; he was always skeptic. Such a incredulous person that Malon could very easily picture a four-year-old Ganondorf Dragmire lecturing his preschool class on the existence of Santa Claus and the scheme behind it. He would have made an extraordinary investigator.

Despite his skepticism for anything that teetered on the thin red line of fact and fiction, the sole cause of Malon's reluctance to tell him the origin of her wound, Dragmire was trusting and surprisingly gentle person.

"I'm not being crazy, Ganondorf," Malon asserted, hissing as Dragmire delicately smeared a gluey cream over the bumpy, scorched surface.

"I never said you were crazy," Dragmire said, "It's just-your story-is-well-a little-hard to believe." Malon flinched, Dragmire's fingertips grazing a sore spot, "Sorry."

"S'ok," Malon said quietly, she sighed heavily, deeply, the incident with the shadow in Navi's room blurred in her memory and harder to recollect, "Perhaps I will take that holiday…" Dragmire smiled weakly, "It was only a suggestion, Malon."

"I need it though," Malon muttered, drained, "I don't know what I saw…but I want to forget it." Dragmire nodded vaguely, bandaging the burns in lacy gauze. Malon closed her eyes, relaxing into plastic-lined armchair. The pain in her arm had dulled, soothed by the sticky ointment to a dim throb. Dragmire fixed a bit of first-aid tape in place, "Luckily, it's not as bad as it could have been, but you should still get a doctor to look at it." Malon nodded listlessly, "I will. Dragmire?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm afraid I won't be coming in for a few days," Malon said flatly, "And if you would, please have Navi moved, I don't want her in that room, and have a nurse attending to her constantly. She's not to be left alone." Dragmire glanced at her, suddenly verging puzzlement. He rose stiffly from his place on the floor and mustered another grin.

"Of course, Malon," Dragmire assured. He lay a hand on her shoulder, smiling lopsidedly, "I'll take care of everything."

End of Chapter 7 

Sorry everybody! The Sheik/Navi/Aife VS. Koume/Kotake battle is finally underway but moving extremely slowly. And I'm really sorry! Please review! I love hearing from you!

Zel 

P.S. TRIGUN 4EVER!

Coming Soon:

Chapter 8: Through the Looking Glass


	8. Chapter 8

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

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Chapter 8, throw your hats in the air, computers are much too heavy.

Disclaimer: See chapter 1 if you really want to sue me.

WOW! You guys are so nice! What would I do without you? (I'd have probably quit this story long ago.)

R&R!

~~~~~~

Chapter 8: Through the Looking Glass

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Koume sneered wickedly, tongues of flame dancing over her palm; "I can come up with fifty different ways to cause you intense pain right off the top of my head." Sheik hardened, hunkering down, his razor balanced in one hand, a tiny dagger, edge-slicked in poison, in the other, "Good for you."

Koume was not amused as she knitted her wrinkled brows in an angry scowl. Her eyes livid as the air crackled, cooking the moisture from the atmosphere as things grew hazy. Sparks cracked. The air suddenly ablaze with them; glinting and drifting like little orange fireflies. Koume smirked, fiendish, as she gathered the bits of flame to her open palms, "Fare thy well!"

Sheik dodged, fire hissed past him, sizzling in the air and scorching ugly, black welts on the walls. The little blade flashing a silver arc as he grazed the witch's cheek. The flesh cracked like dry earth, red seeping from the broken skin, stinging fiercely as Koume gingerly touched the gash.

"Poisoned blades," she muttered dully, "You cheat." Sheik veered sharply, eluding a hail of fireballs, before curving round to catch the desert witch across the shoulder. Koume cried out, clutching the wounded area, crimson oozing through her gnarled fingers.

"Quickly, Aife!" Navi urged, shadows falling across their hiding place, "We have to run! _Now_!" 

"Ms. Navi!" Aife sobbed, "She's coming!" Navi grabbed Aife's hand, forcing her along, "Less talking! More running!" she ordered sternly. The fairies skidded over the cobbles, shaken by a sudden explosion. Navi recovered, rolling over and rousing Aife.

"Come on!" she pressed. Aife grimaced, fluttering after Navi, the chamber suddenly wrapped in dry air, dry and cold.

"Navi!" Aife shrieked, terrified, silver flickering off the walls, the air laced with cutting chills. Piercing shards rained down, a deadly shower of glistening ice. Aife gave a cry, suddenly slacking, a solo glimmer speared through her rosy curls as her eyes dilated, widening to dim pools of faded amber. Navi froze, "Aife…"

Navi couldn't move, as every muscle seemed iced over. She couldn't breathe, the oxygen beaten from her lungs. Only watch, distant and aloof, as Aife sank, plunging headlong on the sandy cobbles. She winced as the audible crack sounded that slender neck shattering like a toothpick.

Aife was dead.

Stiff, cold and broken. A porcelain doll smashed and ruined on the stones. Bearing an eerie resemblance to the stiffened Link as silvery liquid slid over the chalky skin, leaking from the glassy eyes.

__

'No, no…**no**!' Navi pressed her hands over her ears, "Aife! Aife, wake up!"

Sheik was horribly outnumbered. Kotake had come to join her sibling, charged with the powers of ice. Slumped against his sword as the sorceresses circled, mounted on their brooms, hovering like vicious, shriveled harpies.

"Aife! _Aife_!" Navi shrieked desperately, shaking the empty fairy roughly, "Oh goddess, Aife, wake up! _Please_ wake up!"

"Trespasser!" Koume accused, a bent finger pointed at the Sheikiah man, "In our temple! For such an act…you must be _punished_." Fire and ice flew past, brushing his skin with deadly fingertips, the flesh burning and freezing all at once. Sheik straightened, clutching his blade in a shaky hand, crimson botching on his shoulder.

***

Malon was nervous, _very_ nervous and very anxious, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. The shadow-incident, whether it was fact or fantasy, shattering any courage she had to her name. Wracking every nerve beyond immediate repair as she settled on a bench in the lobby. Her hands trembling as they sought her coat pocket for that bitter, _forsaken_ comfort, her fingers closed over a crumpled packet of cigarettes and a lighter, she shivered. Aydin would _kill_ her if he knew; _everyone_ would, for she'd raised the semblance that she'd quit, left those nicotine sticks behind. But now, now, it was either a breath of the venomous cigarette fumes to clear her head or else go out and get very drunk.

***

Fiery beams and icy lances struck the ground, rattling the foundations. Sheik grimaced, scrambling tirelessly from the deadly assaults, somewhere he'd lost his blade and was now left only with the tiny, poisonous razor.

Navi was quiet, Aife was dead. And her fate seemed to hang like a gray omen in Link's future. _'No…I won't let it, I can't let him die,'_ Navi vowed stubbornly, _'Link _can't_ die!'_

Sheik was still running, the witches still pursuing in an endless game of merry-go-round about the boss chamber. Then Sheik, fatigue hanging off his limbs like dead weights, got tired of running. 

Sheik didn't like magic, even as he loosened the bandages tied over his palms, his heart was throbbing in his throat, pulsing with his doubt. Magic, despite the swiftness and sureness of any spell, had too many consequences. Backfires and defects if runes were not uttered properly. Yet, his optimism was waning, one way or another the Hero of Time would have fulfill his destiny and to do that he'd have to be alive.

Every Sheikiah is given a spell, a spell all their own, no two alike, the charms carved in the center of their palms. The hexes were a faded red, like an old scar, power whispering through the jagged lines of marks. Sheik swallowed, he'd used it just once before…and half a village was decimated in the blink of an eye. Energy came as bidden, retreating to the summoning marks like loyal dogs, shivering through his veins. Sheik winced, violet light collecting in his hands.

Navi glanced up, startled by an explosion of brilliance, the luster burning her eyes.

Koume flinched, bracing against the onslaught, glittery needles clawing at her. Kotake gave a cry as she was thrown from her broom and slammed on the cobbles. The light died as instantly as it had come, the Sheikiah sapped of precious energy.

"Sister," Koume growled, weakened grievously by the vicious blow, "it seems our drama cannot be played until its conclusion but we must finish our mission! Kill him, Kotake! Kill him now!" The ice witch crawled shakily to where the lifeless Link lay. Grasping his vulnerable throat in her knotted hands, she squeezed.

***

Link saw red, orange and a variety of other colors. Great, smothering eruptions of color, twisting and curling, drawing long stains of black from their knots. Ink that crept over his lips; slithered into the mesh of veins. A whorl of bloody-scarlet intensity was obscuring his sight. That horrible red, pouring into every opening, filling his insides with its hellish shade, choking out the air as it brimmed in his lungs.

A strangled gag tore Link's throat, ghostly hands of nothing sealing off his air passages. He gasped a ragged intake of twisted air, a horrible rasping scarring his windpipes. Link fumbled, and at last, seized the invisible hands which in turn, pressed _harder_. Iron clamps cutting off oxygen like a knife. Link squinted, tears pricking; everything was shadowy as he fought against the cement grip of the hidden enemy. In the blur of tears and a desperate will to live, Link _saw_ something.

For a moment, a mirror hung before his eyes, shattering as he dug his nails into the flesh of the invisible attacker. A shape appeared, dark and huddled, gradually sharpening into a fuzzy hybrid of human and crow. A queer vulture of a woman, her curled hands tightened about his throat.

"Let go!" Link croaked, wrenching at the witch's hands.

***

Aydin knew her far too well. The cigarette packet had been emptied, its contents probably moldering in the septic tank at home. The lighter was vacant of fluid as well. Malon sighed.

***

Kotake stiffened, glaring down at the boy struggling strenuously against her grasp.

"H-how? How can you possibly be awake?" she whispered, "No! You have to die!" She toughened, forcing all her strength into crushing the life out of this boy.

***

The weight that fell upon Link's neck was like a ton of bricks. Closing the way of breath, the red running over his vision in narrow rivers. The immediate cut-off of oxygen was felt instantly all over his body as circulation staggered to a halt, his brain slowly shutting down as the sapphire irises softened.

***

After the discovery of her cigarettes' demise, Malon had taken to wandering casually about the asylum. The clinic's cream-white corridors were eerily quiet. Coated in a thick layer of disturbing silence and unusually deserted of staff, even the patients were soundless. Malon grimaced, soaking the empty clinic with her scrutiny. It was almost as if time itself had come screaming silently to an abrupt halt.

She rounded a corner, passing down empty halls lined with empty rooms. The entire asylum was setting new standards for emptiness. Then out of the emptied air, came a voice, strangled and raspy, "Let go!" The remaining words were lost in the sounds of a struggle purling through the noiseless halls. Malon ran, dashed over the speckled tiles to the source of the sound.

231.

__

231.

Malon stifled a gasp, hearing the distinct 'thuck!' of a body crashing on the floor. She gave the doorknob a mighty wrench, yanking the portal open. Link Riles lay unconscious on the tiles, dead to the world.

He had no pulse. Malon went rigid; he had no pulse. Was he…dead? An allergic reaction to the drugs perhaps?

The clinic came alive again; nurses emerged from the air, suddenly crowding her and the stiff young man. Malon felt detached from the scene, even as she heard herself say, "Back off! Give him some room!"

Her hands ran the familiar route of CPR, pressing and releasing, trying to jumpstart the stilled heart. Worry seeping into her confidence as she closed her lips over his mouth, why wasn't he waking up?

***

Sheik grunted, smashing into the wall after being hurled across the room. Koume was huffing, her attacks eating away steadily at her reserve of energy.

"Let him go!" Navi yelled in the witch's ears, attempting to slash at her huge eyes with the microscopic fairy knife. Kotake growled and swatted at the pale blue pest.

"Get away from me, nuisance!" Navi gave a cry as Kotake's claw struck her senseless, sending the fairy sliding over the platform. Navi flinched, the red fairy's silver gauze snapping like twigs, the glinting fragments stabbing her damaged wing. _'I'm sorry…'_

Sheik gulped, a wayward fireball almost incinerating his left arm. Koume snarled, prowling the chamber from atop her broom, "Damn Sheikiah, I'll kill you yet…" Sheik's available arson had shrunk considerably, according to his most recent count, he had one poisoned sickle-knife, his newly recovered sword, and a few Deku nuts. Oh lucky.

"Damn you!" Koume hissed, unleashing a storm of fiery coals, "Stubborn as a cockroach!" Sheik shrugged as he sheltered behind a pillar, he'd been called worse things. That one could actually be a rather ironic compliment.

The pillar shook, fire devouring the stones. Fleeing was getting repetitive and Sheik hated being repetitive. He swallowed a gulp of oxygen and leapt up on the platform, sword unsheathed, the sickle stored away in his pocket for a rainy day or a murder whichever came first.

Navi roused weakly, gingerly arranging her flimsy bones into a sitting position. If Link was pale before, he was gray now and Navi screamed, "Sheik please! Help Link!"

Koume snared the fairy in a cruel glower and barked, "Shut up, you little-" Kotake gasped, pained, her sister was horrified. A bloody sword jutted from her back, red pooling on the ground as Kotake's hold loosened and she fell.

"_SISTER_!" Koume screeched; grief mingled with rage at the sight of the corpse, freshly bloodied. _'Sister…'_ Koume wept, piteous silver tears welled in her eyes, _'my sister…'_

"Damn you, you killed her!" Koume seethed, her tears scorched away by the surge of heat, "She's _dead_. Because of _you_. _DAMN YOU!"_ Glowing spirals lashed around her as Koume cried, her grief threatening to cut her open, "For my sister…you will _burn_."

Blazing scourges beat the ground as Navi whimpered, tears gathering in her own eyes. She tugged Link's collar, "Wake up, Link! Wake up! We've got to escape!" she sobbed.

***

For the second time that day, Malon wanted to cry. Pressing aimlessly as tears formed in her blue eyes, _'Oh god…he's not waking up…he's…'_

"Come on!" she swallowed a sob, pressing harder, "Wake up! _Breathe_!"

End of chapter 8 

I imagine you all wish to kill me for that cliffhanger. Just remember this, dead authors can't write.

Zel 

Coming Soon:

Chapter 9: The Puzzle Ring

P.S. Chapter Nine is loooooooong. Might take a bit longer than previous chapters. (Then again maybe not, you never know.)


	9. Chapter 9

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter 9! ^_^ THE CLIMAX CHAPTER! AHHHH! ;_; (The OTHER half of it, part 1 of the CLIMAX chapter was chapter 8…)

To make up for that nasty cliffhanger, I've provided a VERY LONG chapter 9! It's about twice as long as the other chapters so ENJOY!

MOVING ON…

I received two requests for this chapter:

REQUEST #1: Was put in by A Jasmine Mist who wanted to see a bit more of Zelda in the story. I'll admit I've been giving Link, Malon, Sheik, Navi (both of 'em) and Gannondorf a little too much time in the limelight and flat-out ignoring the role Zelda plays in this drama. So, I've included a little page or so bit on Zelda's life in the 'real world' and her problems. (While Link has dementia, Zelda has a dilemma.)

REQUEST #2: Was sent in by Genichiro Tsukiomi, and unfortunately, not nearly as easy to fulfill as the first request. I'm so sorry but I can't have Link and Malon as a couple, because real world Malon is married. (See the end of chapter 7.) And the couple would totally overthrow the planned flow of the story, which would be bad.

R&R!

~~~~~~

Chapter 9: The Puzzle Ring

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Koume had transformed her séance parlor into the flickering mirror of Hell. Ribbons of methane-blue and red-gold entwined, crisping the air with their braid. Navi swallowed, phoenixes swooping and cawing about the grief-stricken witch. _'Oh goddess,'_ she fell against Link, clutching a bit of his tunic, _'We're going to die.'_

The heat was needles dancing over Sheik's nape, all the while, the corpse formerly known as Kotake roasted cheerfully in her sister's bonfire. The flesh cooked away to ashes, leaving a blackened, bird-like skeleton to smolder. Hot gusts swept past, rustling Sheik's bangs, the flaming tentacles were thrashing about, tumbling over the platform, searching for him.

"Sheik!" Navi called through the blazing tempest, not daring to stray from Link, "Sheik! Where are you?!" Sheik frowned, even the 'wise, all-knowing' guardian fairy had her moments of ignorance. The Fire sorceress now knew exactly where she and Link were, which immediately brought up the question of did she care?

"_Sheikiah_ bastard," Koume hissed angrily, "Where are you? I'll boil you down! And make a necklace of your pathetic bones for _Kotake's grave!!"_ Bright whirlwinds slithered over the floor as Sheik drew his tiny, sickle blade.

"_SHEIKIAH?!"_ Koume raged, _"WHERE ARE YOU HIDING!?"_ Sheik gripped the little handle and charged. Plowing through the foggy inferno, fiery tendrils licking his skin. He winced; embers brushed his face, smudging dark, charred streaks. Koume hovered above the blaze, venting her fury as flames consumed the room. All he needed was a clear shot…

Navi gasped, the tongues of flame invading her and Link's little niche of safety. She drew her little dagger, summoning up enough magic for a weak fairy shield, its surface wavering as the intruding glitters threatened to breach it.

Koume scanned the room, peering for her adversary through the smoky haze. A wicked grin further twisted her features as she called up a single, lethal meteor to strike the villain where he stood. Sheik took a breath, said a prayer, and let the dagger fly. The little silver crescent bolted through the air, and struck Koume, dead center, in the middle of her forehead. The hag's large eyes rolled back in her skull and she fell, devoured by her own magic as it too dwindled and died.

The chamber was bare though not unscathed, ashen scars marred the walls and ruined the cobbles. The rubbish of Twinrova's spell casting was chewed and blackened beyond recognition. Navi and Link occupied the lone patch of sound flooring, feebly guarded by Navi's shriveling barrier. Sheik staggered towards them, burnt and bleeding in many places. Clasping a wounded shoulder as he sunk down on one knee, "He's not dead, is he?" Navi frowned, fidgeting nervously, "I-I don't know."

The Hero of Time choked terribly; the coughs rattling his ribcage as he dragged air into his lungs. Color flooded his face as he quieted, and Navi looked ready to cry with relief. Sheik grimaced, tilting Link's chin slightly, "Something's wrong, he should have woken up. The witches are dead." His frown deepened as questions set in, just what sort of spell had those two buzzards put on him?

"W-we have to get him help!" Navi said, "he'll die-" Sheik hushed her with a wave of his hand and rose, rigidly heaving the unconscious hero on his back. He stumbled and ordered gruffly, "Come on, I have a friend-she'll know what to do." Navi nodded and faltered suddenly, "Wait." She drifted from Sheik, to a small portion of clean stone, where Aife's body lay miraculously unharmed by the flames. Navi sniffled, suppressing another flood of tears and delicately closed the blank eyes. 

"We have to bury her, Sheik," she said slowly. Sheik frowned, annoyed, "Slip her into Link's pockets, he must have room." Navi carefully lifted Aife's shell and eased the corpse into Link's pouch, knotting the tether firmly before latching onto the green folds as Sheik shuffled over to the door.

***

Voices, far-off and wavering, tickled Link's ears before their whispers were suddenly swallowed in the requiem of cathedral bells from across town.

A horde of faceless women swaying and hovering above greeted Link as he woke. Ghostly in blue-white jumpers, the contour of their faces shielded in ivory masks. Link fought a cringe, running his tongue over his lip, tasting tart strawberry and the faint, gluey flavor of lip gloss, mutely reminding him of Zelda's kisses.

"Mr. Riles, are you all right?" A solitary redhead sat silhouetted against the white fog of featureless nurses. Her delicate fingers held his in a light clasp, curly, copper-colored wisps of hair framed her face, her blue eyes mirrored a very familiar earnest, and her right hand was swathed in gauze.

He nodded, suddenly knowing this woman as Navi's doctor, the woman from the other night.

"Good," Malon rose and turned to a phantom nurse, suddenly made solid, "see to it Mr. Riles is settled down and comfortable," she said, gently yet stern, "And no more injections, not until we can figure out the problem."

"Dr. Kit, I don't believe one should give such others when she is out of her field of authority." An almost tangible tension filtered into the room as Dragmire's shadow haunted the threshold.

"I know, but-"

"I thought you were leaving early," Dragmire interjected, "Going to get your arm looked at."

"I was-but I heard Riles choking," Malon said, stammering at first, something about her colleague all of a sudden wanted to make her cringe. Dragmire smiled, small and knowingly, "My, my, Dr. Kit, what a day you've had." Malon frowned, dropping a weight on her temper before it ran away with her.

"Yes, and I was just leaving. Good night, Doctor." Malon glided by, masking her anger before it lashed out and strangled Dragmire for his damned arrogance, thinking that he could play her like _this_! But she absolutely refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her make a jackass of herself like earlier. Malon didn't touch any doors between room 231 and her office.

***

Navi wrinkled her nose as she stirred. Tea. Not just any tea, but _green tea_. She hated green tea. Or maybe that was just Anju the Cucco-keeper's green tea.

Navi found herself in a cottage, a very tiny but well-kept bungalow. The atmosphere perfumed with a rich blend of herbs and spices, the most distinct being clouds of lavender-scented incense burning from an oil-lamp. Orient rugs carpeted in the dusty clay-floor and chimes hung from the rafters, worked of gleaming bits of gold and bronze-colored glass, accompanied by more incense-burning lamps. All the while, a cheery brass-wrought kettle whistled in the hearth from which came the appalling odor of Green tea.

__

"Sentindo melhor?" the voice was feminine yet husky but most undoubtedly, _Gerudo_. Navi stiffened, the woman was very tall like all her kind, with red hair hanging loosely to her waist, bronzed skin, and amber eyes flecked with silver. A robe of dark, gleaming velvet was drawn about her shoulders with silver runes stitched along the cherry-silk hem. A sorceress, a _Gerudo_ sorceress, barely within her mid-twenties and a far-more gentler sight to the eyes then the Twinrova sisters.

Navi was never very good with Gerudo lingo and the tiny wheels in her brain whorled as she struggled to translate, after coming up hopelessly with jumbled up sentences running along the lines of 'I'm going to eat you, little one!' She panicked. The Gerudo woman sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward, her heavy accent bore down on her Hylian, "Feeling better?" Navi swallowed and nodded stiffly.

"You talk, don't you?" the Gerudo inquired dryly. Navi stopped herself in mid-nod, "Yes, I talk." The woman poured herself a mug of the dreaded green tea. Steamy wisps drifting up from the earthen cup, "Name?"

Navi was reluctant to trust this woman and even more reluctant to give details about names, places, and _people_ she was associated with.

"Navi," she said simply. The Gerudo grinned, "Navi, eh? Well, Navi, my name is Soara."

"Where am I?" Navi asked.

"You, and your companions, are in my house," Soara said curtly, "which is in the Haunted Wasteland, about half a mile or so from the Bombchu-merchant."

"How did I get here?" Navi pried. Soara brushed off her question, fetching a thimble from the cupboard, "Tea?"

"No thank you."

"Cream then?"

"Sure," Navi said, "now how did we get here?"

"I brought you here," Soara replied, gingerly filling the thimble with fluffy cream. The embers popped and crackled in the hearth as Navi sipped her milk, "Where are my friends?"

"Sleeping in the next room," Soara answered, shifting through the cabinets, briefly muttering about missing biscuits, "the little fairy's in bad shape." Navi's face snapped up from gazing idly at the cracked surface of the table, "Aife? She's-"

"Very much alive," Soara assured, "though very much wounded, red fairies can only die when their healing powers are spent, you know. Poor thing, I almost overlooked her until I heard her bells." Navi nodded slowly, she hadn't know; oh poor Aife…

After a draw-out search of the pantry, Soara produced the missing tin of biscuits and a little jar of honey. And a few beeswax candles were tucked under one arm along with a sealed jar of dried fruit. 

"Now, if I may," Navi went on, Soara half-listening as she hastily arranged the assorted objects, "_How_ did you find us?"

"I've been assigned out here by order of Lady Nabooru, finding the runaways is my duty," Soara said, sitting down to savor her tea again after adding a few spoonfuls of sugar. "Hylians, Gerudos, doesn't matter who, if they run, they usually run here and they get lost in the sandstorms. And if I don't find them then they die and I find their corpses." Navi flinched at the almost ironic way she spoke.

"Too be honest, I thought your friend was dead, bleeding as he was," Soara idly swirled shriveled tea leaves around in her mug. Navi nodded very slowly, absorbing in gazing, trance-like, at the woman's ring.

"I like your ring," she said, smiling.

"Why thank you," Soara answered, glancing down at her old ring, "it's a good-luck charm of mine, I've had it for so long. It's a puzzle ring." Navi frowned, "I've never seen one of those, why do they call it a 'puzzle ring'?" She said, examining the ring as Soara extended her hand closer, it was made up of a wide band of silver set with nine, little drops of onyx.

"Because, nine different, intersecting rings make up the whole ring and if you take it off they come apart," Soara explained, "and it's very difficult to put back together."

"Oh," Navi sat back down the makeshift bed of almond-colored linens; "it's still pretty." Soara smiled at the familiar hoop hugging her finger; pretty, yes, though very much a bitch to put back together if the band ever slipped off. A sardonic ring.

The Gerudo Sorceress rose from her chair, billows of silky ebony rippling as she moved.

"Your friend should be awake now," Soara said, readying a funny-smelling potion of a violent red color, "at least the stupid one." Navi grinned, rising, rickety, from her nest of quilted scarves. Her wing was whole and unbroken, smeared with red potion, while scars crisscrossed over the silvery scales, but thankfully, very useable.

The bedroom stank of medicine and blood, balms and opium; Navi breathed through her mouth. Bloodied bandages gathered in a wastebasket while fresh, clean ones lay waiting to be applied. A collection of narrow glass vials containing various powders cluttered a low table. Worn and beaten volumes of medicine were hoarded on a shelf, which bent slightly with their weight, a cache of needles of different length and thickness and spools of a dark thread pervaded in an open desk drawer. Soara's medicinal storeroom and infirmary.

On the room's far side, Link occupied a bench, sleeping easily as if he didn't have a care in the world. Sprawling on his pallet, Sheik lacked that luxury. He lay on his back, his shirt and the hood hung up on a peg above; burns were daubed in opaque ointment and bandages grasped his wounds, crimson blotting the wrappings. A grimace was etched on his still features and Navi imagined that he was in quite a bit of pain. The muscles eased and a sleepy serenity passed over Sheik. Navi sighed dreamily; he was very, very handsome without the headgear.

"Hello fairy girl," Sheik murmured, agony bit sorely as he tested the tender areas while the bruises that seemed to blotch just about everywhere were turning a stormy purple color.

"Ya dead yet?" Navi asked wryly.

"No, not quite," Sheik said, sitting up, "care to share, fairy girl, as to where are we?"

"A Gerudo Outpost," Navi answered, gently setting down on the sandy floor, "A Gerudo witch is running the place, she seems…nice."

"Nice as in trustworthy? Or nice as in she'll dig our graves herself?"

"Trustworthy nice," Navi finished. Sheik smiled and eased his shirt on over his injuries, wincing as the cloth snagged on uneven bandages. Link sighed in his sleep but did not wake, provoking more of Navi's obvious distress. Sheik yanked on his boots and mustered up a optimistic grin to lighten the dispirited Navi.

"Do you-do you think maybe the Sorceress can cure Link?" she asked meekly. Now that, Sheik did not know, for his experience with Gerudos was limited, and what he could draw from it was you could get a Gerudo to do just about anything if you paid her enough rupees.

"I don't know," Sheik said.

"We could bribe her," Navi suggested hopefully. Sheik played with the thought then recalled that, annoyingly, he hadn't seen a paycheck in _weeks_ and his wallet was suffering a heavy decline in necessary funds.

"Your clothes are all bloody," Navi said matter-of-factly. Sheik frowned and glanced down at his shirt, worn and frayed, rust-red stains and dark charred marks ruined the material. 

"She left you some extra clothes if ya wanna change," Navi offered, "And hurry up! Our hostess was very nice to have helped us out! Don't be rude and keep her waiting!" Navi shot off, a blue flash that nimbly avoided the thick-curtain serving as a door and vanished into the outer room.

The aforementioned clothing was folded neatly at the foot of Sheik's pallet. Carefully stitched and cut in the style of any common desert-dweller's outfit, meaning first and foremost, no sleeves. Only a deep indigo tunic that fitted loosely around his torso, sparing his bruises a little pain, and beige trousers.

The room beyond was warm, its amber light creeping in under the curtain. The air perfumed with a sigh of mild lavender and cinnamon. Sheik parted the curtain warily; a young Gerudo woman was seated at the table, cradling a clayware goblet in her fingers. Something popped in the kettle over the grate.

"Ah, good," she said, catching Sheik in a sideways gaze, "you're both awake. Please sit down." Sheik frowned; there was something terribly familiar about this woman, a knowledge that fled when he searched his memory for it. Meanwhile Navi gnawed happily at a bit of cookie dusted in sugar.

"Sheik," Navi said, putting her cookie down, "This is Soara, Soara, this is Sheik."

"It's pleasure to finally meet you, Sheik," Soara said, "Awake." Sheik smirked a little bit, "And I've heard only good things of you, Soara." Soara grinned, sitting down again and pushing a steaming cup of tea towards Sheik.

"That wasn't a wise thing you did, trying to carry that boy across the desert when you're half-dead yourself," she chided, her voice biting with its familiar sting.

"We're very grateful you found us," Navi said, licking a bit of sugary crumb off her finger. Soara nodded, watching Sheik closely with her candlelight-eyes, "But why were you in the desert?"

"Business," Sheik said quickly, taking a draught of his tea. It was very good tea, unmistakably orange spiced with ginger.

"Business?" Soara challenged, "What sort of business?" Navi chewed her lip, looking hopelessly at Sheik as he tensed, glaring at the woman draped in sable mage robes and her golden eyes chilled him. As if they could pierce their way right into all his secrets.

"I-I'm afraid we can't answer that," Navi said, apprehensive. Soara folded her hands beneath her chin, lowering her amber gaze. The wind, hot and dry, relentlessly battering the tiny dwelling in the ink-stained and starless night outside.

"My given task is to act as Border guard," Soara said gravely, "I patrol the desert just beyond the River of Sand. Slaves from the fortress escape and sometimes manage to cross the river. It's my duty to arrest them and execute them." Navi stiffened, her eyes darting nervously to Sheik, who was silently drumming his fingers on the table.

"If you're Ganondorf's soldiers, I can offer only brief quartering, but," Soara's face was stony, an unreadable mask, "you're not soldiers. And you're not slaves. Who are you?"

"That, we can't answer either," Sheik said firmly. Soara grimaced, glowering at Sheik through narrowed eyes. She softened and curled her fingers about her cup again.

"Sixteen years after the Great War was done and resolved, the King of Hyrule sent a Sheikiah spy to watch over the valley," something flickered in Soara's icy amber eyes, "He acted as one of the thieves' boyfriends during his time there. I was very small then and disowned by my relatives. I worked and lived below in the dark, lower levels of the fortress with other children like me…in the basements where Ganondorf kept the forges and the ovens where he burned betrayers. Many little children died in those pits, from disease, accidents, and the toxic fumes the forges belched daily. 

"One night, the Sheikiah came downstairs and paid me for a tour of the Pits. He gave me a ring for my silence and asked that I testify before the King's court. Living proof that Lord Ganondorf sanctioned child labor, violating the current Trade codes. But…he was caught. Hung and cremated, I was there. So, my question is…why is he sitting in my parlor fifteen years later?" Sheik was stone and ice. Despite the fixed barriers, Soara pressed, "You are Sheik. You've said so yourself."

"Soara, I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?" Soara said sharply, "What on Earth are you _sorry for_? You _died_! Got careless and got caught! Shit like that happens! What I want to know is what the hell are you doing here when you're supposed to be _dead_?!" Navi was dumbfounded; Sheik was _dead_? Soara calmed, falling back on her chair, her forehead in her hands, "I imagine that was a real whammy of a necromancy spell, eh? Who brought you back?"

"Impa did," Sheik replied.

"The Shadow Sage? Necromancy is her skill now?" Soara asked skeptically.

"It isn't," Sheik went on, "the spell is only for a time."

"You're possessing someone? Who?"

"It's not my liberty to say."

Soara scowled, not at all satisfied with Sheik taking a sudden interest with the floor, "Just what are you getting out of this? Money? A free pass to Elysium? Dare I say it-sex?"

"A brief second chance to live, love, and lose. Then I'm dead again," Sheik said, mildly surprised with the string of words from Soara's lips. There was a pause. "You got ripped off."

"I know."

***

On bustling downtown streets, in business skyscrapers, everyplace where mankind works long-hour jobs and goes days without sleeping, caffeine is worshipped. Glorified like the Gods of Old in street-corner shrines and shopping-mall chapels. Our nickels, dollars, and dimes sacrificed daily on their cash register altars. Zelda Kinnian was such an attendant at one of these coffee house temples. Traversing to the little corner Starbucks after a nine to five job as a very hard-working and very tolerant secretary.

The Immortal caffeine governed over the little coffee shop as one of its many apparitions; this time, a figure etched in white, stars clutched at its forehead. Reigning above its many minions in uniform. 'Strawberry Kiss Kiss' purred from a distant radio and the perfume of roasting coffee beans accented the peaceful, sophisticated atmosphere.

This afternoon was particularly quiet as Zelda worked the four-hour shift with her two co-workers. A tall, black girl with her hair all done in dreadlocks named Anjel and a small, pale, blond girl whose name used to be Cleo before she changed it to 'Vanilla'-Nila for short.

The shop was empty and despite the background music hauntingly quiet. Anjel and Nila chatted feebly about the weather before discussing pop stars and their _obviously_ fake boobs. Leaving Zelda alone, drifting in the void of her thoughts while silently sipping Pepsi from a straw. And the minutes ticked by.

Zelda didn't want to go home, didn't want to go back to that lonely flat and its mailbox full of bills. It hadn't been so bad when Link was…himself was the only word Zelda could find. She sighed, resting her head on her arms, her eyes quivering just a little…why did everything have to change? Everything had been _perfect_ when Link was himself. Why did it all have to change? Why couldn't life still hold that blissful constancy it had six months ago?

__

'Do you like toffee and lemonade?

They used to taste so good hand-made,

Where are the smiles of yesterday?

Our childhood conversations?'

Six months ago…on that hazy night in June, when everything seemed _slower_, like a dream, movement left trailing shadows and lights budded like gaudy flowers. The air was so thick with music she could almost smell it as it shivered in her bones and pulsated in her chest like a second heartbeat.

__

"Link-"

****

"Don't worry, Zelly, I'll only be gone for a bit, half an hour-no less. I'm gonna drive Darunia and Saria back."

"But-" Her cheek trembled with his last kiss, light and fluttering over her skin, like a film of butter frosting over the dread rising in her gut. She remembered that Darunia was a friend of his who had come over from Denver just to see him, a big, burly man with a thatch of sandy hair and black eyes. Saria was a friend since high school, small and lithe, with hair dyed verdant green curling about her shoulders. Zelda let him go.

The contorted metal heap had swallowed Saria and Darunia both, and Link stopped breathing and suffered brain damage from a serious blow to the skull. _'I shouldn't have let him go…it's all my fault…'_

Six long lonely months ago, everything had changed, weaving a confusing, dreary present. Where loving her Link was a lot like embracing an empty shell. He had become a vacant soul who wouldn't ever look at her the same way again and Zelda was caught in what seemed like a hopeless one-sided love. Her affections seemed spent and Link was too wrapped up in his dreams to notice or care, yet she couldn't leave. Link was all by himself, he wouldn't have anyone if she left. Zelda worked two jobs, lived alone, and endured the months behind and the months beyond all for him. It had been her fault, she let him go, screwed up her life and his, and she'd have to make it up to him.

Meanwhile, across the countertop, Anjel and Nila's topic of counterfeit breasts over home-brewed experimental coffees was exchanged for the heated controversy of saving Christianity from fundamentalism.

Zelda sniffled, trying fiercely not to cry and wishing a customer would come in or the pop machine might croak, _anything_ to take her mind away.

__

'I'm only holding back the rain,

So many raindrops, so many pains.

I wanna find my train someday,

And seasons go past the station.'

"Hey, girl, are you all right?" Anjel touched her shoulder. Zelda jumped, rubbing her eyes furiously, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Geez," Nila said, "you're been so down lately. Stressed, I bet." Zelda smiled weakly and nodded.

"You should get a boyfriend," Nila said, inspecting her neon-green nail-job. Zelda sighed, a rueful 'I have one' silenced on her tongue.

End of chapter 9 

Sorry, no evil cliffhangers today. (I'm sure you're all just so disappointed.) I hope it wasn't too boring for you and of satisfactory length to make up for the nasty cliffhanger. (Was truly evil of me.) Plus the story's not over yet! No! I give two or three chapters for me to wrap it up. The song in Zelda's little bit at the end of the chapter is '_Strawberry Kiss Kiss'_ from the _Tokyo Babylon_ OAV. Not the greatest song in the world for that section but a couple verses had something akin to the symbolism I was trying to get across.

R&R!

Zel 

NEXT UP –

Chapter 10: Calm before a Storm (for lack of a better title…)

P.S. Does anybody like Soara? Or is she annoying?

P.S.S. Sorry, I just couldn't kill Aife.


	10. Chapter 10

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: (*pokes disclaimer* I still hate you!!) If I owned Zelda, I couldn't write this.

First and foremost, I hate you, Writer's block. beats her writer's block with a large jackhammer. (Sorry, I'm pissed, and feeling intense urges to attack my writer's block.) (Totally normal behavior for fanfiction writers, ne?)

SECOND this chapter could actually give me a rating booster! (O.O!!! EEP! An R! But I toned it down a little…) But anyway, for your own safety. 

WARNING: This chapter contains material that might make some readers uncomfortable

Kudos to Chapter 9's reviewers: AngeredFairy, Chibi fairy, ^_^ and Genichiro Tsukiomi

R&R!

~~~~~

Chapter 10: Soara's Undertaking

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The storm had cleared and some titan's child seemed to have broken a glass over the indigo vault of the sky, the glittery bits strew across the heavens. Malon sighed; folding her umbrella as the remnants of the storm vanished. The parking lot was strangely tranquil under the milky streetlights and littered with rainwater pools shimmering with gasoline rainbows.

Malon tossed her dry coat and folded umbrella in the back then slid into the polyester cushions of the driver's seat. Life rumbled in the engine as she pulled out and swerved about to the exit. Shifting gears before heading out to the Interstate highway that would guide her home.

***

Soara relaxed into her chair, frowning as she rested a curled finger beneath the curve of her jaw, "Hmmm…that's quite a business proposition."

"We'll pay you," Navi said earnestly, "Anything you want, money, services-"

"Blood," Sheik added and Navi looked at daggers at the Sheikiah, stretched out like a cat on the cushioned bench by the hearthstone. Soara smiled, a little grin that curved her rosy lips.

"I don't need money," Soara said, "But a service, yes, I will require a service from you."

Services were very easily the very worse kind of debt, especially when the debt wasn't in Sheik's favor. He sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bench and sitting up. His red eyes were weary, "What do you want?"

Soara's smile faded and her eyes floated to the smooth adobe floor, "For the past two and half years I've been running a business trade with the Bombchu merchant. In exchange for the necessary materials for manufacturing his wares, he carries fugitive slaves I 'supposedly' have 'killed' away from the valley to a refugee camp on the far side of Death Mountain. From there they are moved to Sheikiah's village and given jobs following the arrangement I've kept with Impa up until she disappeared several weeks ago when the Shadow beast reappeared. Anyway, Ganondorf's officers are beginning to suspect and according to my 'eyes and ears' about the fortress, I'm to be taken in and interrogated. _If_ they discover my activities I will be hanged for treason against the King, secret communication with enemy forces, and disobeying my commanding officer's orders. Sheik, I need you to help me escape the Gerudo and in return, I will awaken your hero friend," Soara swallowed, stretching out her cinnamon-colored hand to Sheik, "Do we have a deal?"

Navi let out her breath as Sheik's fingers closed around the Gerudo sorceress's hand, "We do."

"Good," Soara said, vanishing into the backroom, only to reappear with a dusty, shabby leather-bound volume in the crook of her arm, "I have a week at the most, I think, until the soldiers come for me. But once I figure out the spell it should only be a few hours 'til we have your friend up and walking again." Soara leafed through the yellowed pages, dragging her finger down over the worn inscriptions.

Candles came at her call, settling gently on the table after it had generously moved over to the side of the room. Navi gulped, cupboards opening to free little bottles of rainbow-colored solutions as Soara traced each rune with the tip of her finger. Sheik acknowledged the flying objects with passive indifference while Navi dodged a crystal orb landing gracelessly on the table.

"Watch it," she hissed.

"Sorry," Soara said, placing her book on the table when the last of the summoned objects were no longer airborne, "Sheik, come, help me bring your friend out here." The Sheikiah man and the Gerudo witch ducked behind the burlap curtain, emerging moments later with Link suspended on the pallet between them. Gingerly they lowered the unconscious boy on the floor, sleeping ever peacefully like a babe in his mother's lap.

Soara called a bottle from the table and Navi made a small sound, still terribly unsettled by flying glassware. Other vessels assembled themselves as Soara opened the little bottle, dumping a mass of moss-colored-stuff into an emptied bowl.

"I'll need the two of you to be very quiet," Soara lectured, grinding herbs to powder.

"A quick question?" Navi piped.

"Yes?" Soara mumbled, spilling the chunky, green blend into a flask and corking it tightly.

"Is Aife all right?" she asked, "and where is she?"

"Her sisters came to collect her," Soara answered, caching her brew away in her pocket, "Don't worry, I put in a good word for her, the fountain's very proud." Navi smiled, satisfied, as Soara lit her few candles, the scent of crushed cinnamon drifting on a waft, and put out the lamps. Sheik never minded Gerudo magic, though he wondered briefly why casting was so often done in the dark.

Soara drank a breath of oxygen, then splayed out her fingers in the hazy, perfumed air. Runes came as she sketched them, her fingertip a quill drawing magic on an airy parchment. The stronger runes left stamps, golden-hued shadows, while their inferiors dissolved with nothing more but a faint whisper. Soara frowned, her eyes closed, as her brow knitted.

"The spell's intricate," she said, mildly impressed, "it has layers, rings. Those witches had some impressive magic after all."

"Can you lift it?" Sheik questioned, watching Soara from his bench.

"I think, I think I can," Soara said, "you see, the spell has levels, complex barriers, but once I've purged them it won't be much longer."

***

Home was an apartment. A vanilla-plaster block with chocolate roofing tiles and dark rectangle windows; surrounded by identical buildings on all sides. Malon pulled into the usual spot, five spaces from the door, and stepped out of her car. Thunder rumbled in the drab sky, lightening forked the horizon but it wouldn't rain.

The entryway was surprisingly quiet, no music floating from the college student dwelling upstairs or laundry happily spinning in the cluster of washing machines in the basement, no nothing…but Malon's footfalls. Resonating as she trudged up the stairwell, to apartment 22, third floor.

"Aydin? Aydin, I'm home!" Malon said cheerfully, hanging up her coat and eagerly awaiting Aydin's welcome-home kiss that soothed the day's strains. But there was no Aydin! Malon moved through the foyer, into the modest parlor jointed with the lemon-and-caramel schemed kitchen. She'd been meaning to paint it, prime it, _anything_ to cover up the tacky decorating of the previous owners. 

The couple before them had managed to muddle every room in the apartment, minus the bathroom, newly renovated and done in peach and the closets. The last few months had been spent tearing down wallpaper splashed in gaudy flowers, ripping up fifties-carpets, speckled ceiling tiles, and all the other 'gifts' the elderly couple had left behind. The two-bedroom apartment had been a fixer-upper from the beginning and the lack of old-lady trinkets and baubles made it look significantly worse.

"Aydin?" Malon passed into the dining room, searching the apartment for her absent husband who was usually home at this time. The baby-blue corridor was empty of his presence, the lavender bedroom as well. Thoroughly puzzled, Malon gingerly opened the bathroom door.

Birds alighted into the colorless sky as a desperate scream of shock and grief tore the stillness.

Cherry rivers stained the salmon ceramics; the bathroom air was perfumed with the scent of blood gone sour.

"A-A-Aydin?" dry sobs garbled her voice as Malon sunk against the doorframe, watching the corpse slumped over the toilet bowl, white as cold wax. Ruby streaks ran from his wrists, slashed with a kitchen knife. A bit of paper, dappled with beads of red, was crumpled in his cold fist.

__

'I'm lonely.'

Malon fled, grief-stricken. Her hand cupped over her mouth, holding in a cataract of pain. She slipped and crashed on the moss-green runner, crying bitterly. The landlady, Mrs. Flint, emerged from her den, her hair up in rollers, "Mrs. Kit!" she cried, kneeing down beside the wailing young woman, "what happened? What's wrong?"

Malon rose unsteadily, resting on her knees, as Mrs. Flint gripped her shoulder. She recoiled, building a dyke against her sorrow; "Aydin's dead." The landlady was struck dumb, "W-what happened?"

Malon pinched her eyes shut; "Aydin's dead! He was lonely…oh god, oh god, why didn't you tell me? I'd have given it all up…I'd have come home just for you…Oh god, oh god…"

"Mrs. Kit," Mrs. Flint said sternly, "come inside, we'll call the police-"

"No, please let me go!" Malon gasped, "please! I-I need to think!" Malon broke away, running down the empty hallway, tenants murmuring as the distraught woman dashed out into the lusterless outside.

"Mrs. Kit! Mrs. Kit, come back!" the landlady watched, powerless, as Malon urged her car alive and disappeared down the street. The woman swallowed and turned, "Somebody call the police! A suicide! Mr. Kit's committed suicide!"

Malon bit her lip, squinting through watery eyes, wanting very much to pull over to the side of the road and have good cry.

"Oh god, oh god," she mumbled, "it's all my fault! Oh god, Aydin, why didn't you ever tell me?" Traffic ebbed away as she turned down a byway lined in 1960s houses. Trees spread their leafy canopies overhead as the car traveled over the cracked pavement at a comfortable speed. Malon swallowed, her lip trembled, a watery curtain draped across her eyesight and she cried. Fat tears that rolled silently down her cheeks, lost as her jacket absorbed them, "Why, Aydin? Why?"

Her cell phone rang, murmuring a digitized ballad about horses that she'd loved when she was a kid from the bottom of her purse. Malon fished the tiny phone from her bag and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Kit."

***

Soara sighed, breezing past wispy rings of mystic barriers in her mind's eye. This was irritating, why were there so many of them? _'Open to me,'_ she forced, pressing her might against the collection of cloudy rings, _'Open to me, what are those witches hiding?'_

The barrier shattered, particles of glittery stuffs flinging themselves into nothing. Leaving only a vast unexplored darkness, devoid of light apart from the faint aura enveloping Soara's conscious.

"That's it," Soara whispered, "it's all an illusion."

"You figured it out?" Navi asked quickly.

"Shut up," Soara snapped, "don't talk, not yet." Navi frowned and fell quiet, sinking down on the floor, to glare at the Gerudo witch.

"Yes, I was right," Soara went on, "it's a mind trap." A solitary beacon of starlight burned in the heart of the universal blackness, "If I can break the spell, he'll wake up."

"Are you talking to us or yourself?" Navi asked, fed-up with being told to shut up over and over.

"Both," Soara replied smoothly, opening her eyes.

"So, what's cursing Link now?" Sheik questioned.

"It's a mind trap," Soara said, "a very difficult spell that weaves an intricate and very authentic dream-world within the victim's conscious. The spell is powered by a central nerve, when that nerve is broken, the dream-world comes to pieces."

"Can you break it and save Link?" Navi looked up hopefully at the Gerudo sorceress.

"I can try," Soara answered, "but it won't be as easy as it sounds. You see, the nerve is hidden somewhere within Link's dream. To find it I have to build a 'ghost' of myself to find it and destroy it. That might take a while."

"We don't care," Navi said strongly, "just please, wake up Link." Soara winked, "Everything will be fine, but we'll have to wait a day, building a ghost takes more energy than I have left in my reserve."

***

"Can I help you?" Malon asked, shifting on the cruise control.

"Yes, Mrs. Kit, I must discuss a matter of great importance with you," the voice at the end of the other line said. Malon frowned, the voice sounded very familiar.

"Oh?"

"You see, Mrs. Kit, it's about your husband."

Malon stiffened, her car jerking suddenly as her foot slipped on the brake.

"M-m-my husband? Whatever for?"

"He's a very good man, Mrs. Kit. He loves you very much."

Malon felt her heart prick, a sting that bit deeply.

"I-I know."

"But something happened to him," the voice went on, "something that didn't _need_ to happen."

Malon's eyes grew wide and she pulled loosely on the gears, "Who are you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Kit, I am very aware that your husband is dead. He was a very good man. He loved you more than anything-"

"Stop it! Is this some kind of sick joke!-"

"He kept it all penned up inside. He knew how important work, the apartment, and etc. was to you. He didn't want to worry you or cause you pain," the voice chuckled, "Irony, isn't it?"

"How did you get this number?" Malon demanded, pressing slightly on the gas pedal.

"I've always had this number," the voice cooed. Malon shivered, the voice at the end of the line was suddenly millions of voices. Countless tones, women, men, and children, like ribbons in a braid, all threaded into a shivering mesh, speaking directly to _her_ through her cell phone.

"What do you want?"

"Our world follows a distinct order," the voice said, "that _you_ are threatening."

"I-I don't understand-"

"Link must die, Mrs. Kit," the voice said icily, "he must die."

"What the hell's going on here?" Malon barked.

"You see, Mrs. Kit, our world aches for his blood. Longs for its taste, its scent as it spoils. We exist only to kill him. And your husband gave his life for our divine cause."

"You're crazy."

"Now, now, Mrs. Kit, don't you see? It's tainted souls like yours that keep our divine cause from its long last completion. If you were pure, pure like Aydin, you would have killed Link."

Malon grimaced, slitting her eyes, "Who are you?"

"My name is Nimbus," the many voices said, "and you need to watch where you're going." The line fell dead as Malon's car rolled into traffic. Malon gave a cry, her tires skidding across the asphalt with a terrible screech, trailing dark lines. She swerved sharply, a red minivan slamming into the passager's side. Blinding pain and warm blood dissolved Malon's conscious as her forehead struck the wheel.

End of Chapter Ten 

Much apologies for the cliffhanger!

Please review!

- Zel


	11. Chapter 11

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: ARGH! Stomps away as a super-deformed, Chibi-Link appears holding a sign reading "Seeing as she's still poor due to an extreme anime addiction and still writing fanfiction you can bet good money she doesn't own LOZ."

So sorry for the very long delay but things came up. (By 'things' I mean me resisting the strong desire to pitch this fic off a cliff so I can work on other stuff.) I really haven't felt like working on it lately, but I did it! I finally wrote up chapter 11!

Kudos to the following people whose nice reviews convinced me to get back to work: Sparkybw, A Jasmine Myst, Queen of Blades, lectrcfireball19, chibi fairy, Evil Neptune, Demon Wolf, ^_^, Mungojerry, Soviet Inclination, Gobby and AF! (Any and all spelling errors are mine.)

R&R!

~~~~~~

Chapter 11: Gray Skies & Scattered Showers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The subway was crowded, its slate-gray veins brimming with people boarding the trains that would carry them from their skyscraper offices to their homes in the suburbs. An automated choir of voices was singing train arrivals and departures as the pay phone settled into its cradle with a dull click.

Zelda sighed, dragging her bangs from her face as Anjel sauntered up beside her, loose ties of her black-leather jacket swaying with her movements.

"Who'd ya have to call?" she asked.

"My pizza guy," Zelda admitted with a faint grin, "I don't feel like cooking."

"On the pay phone?" Anjel, looking doubtful, arched a dark eyebrow.

"What? I left my cell phone on the kitchen table," Zelda said as they stepped out on the platform, "besides this way I can pick it up on my way home!" Anjel laughed, Zelda never did anything that didn't, in its own eccentric way, make sense. Anything except-a cold gust blew all of a sudden through the tunnels, rustling up newspapers scattered on the tracks.

"Burr, cold," Anjel said, tightening her jacket about her shoulders.

"That's November for you," Zelda remarked and buried in her hands in her coat's genuine-imitation fur-lined pockets, _'What's today? November 30th? And tomorrow…the first of December…six months ago…tomorrow.'_

"Hey, Zelly," Anjel began casually, "Why don't you take tomorrow off?"

__

'Tomorrow…December 1st…'

"But why would I?" Zelda asked.

"Well-you look tired," Anjel said, nearing her friend, "Zelda, you don't look good. Nila and I are worried about you. Especially about tomorrow-"

"I'm fine, Anjel," Zelda said flatly, "Thank you for your concern." Anjel backpedaled, Zelda stepping away from her and into the train. Anjel squeezed past the closing doors, ducking into Zelda's car. The blonde visible on the upper level, her hands fixed in her lap. Anjel marched up the narrow spiral steps, _'Yeah, "you're fine", that's all I ever hear from you anymore.'_

The train grew quiet as Anjel forced her way upstairs to Zelda's seat. She seized her friend's shoulders and frowned, "Zelda, _stop_. Stop doing all this! You're acting crazy! Link doesn't need you to protect him! He's perfectly safe! You don't need to worry like this!"

Zelda was appalled, wincing as Anjel's strong fingers clenched her shoulders. She bit her lip very hard to keep from crying, dissolving to a sobbing mess of tears, "But-but if I don't-" Zelda stammered, "Who will protect him?"

"Zelda, can't you see? You've got yourself thinking you're all Link has! But that's not true! And you know it! And you've been acting so weird lately! Especially since Helori agreed to take Link back home to their parents after the hospital releases him!" Anjel swallowed, "You don't go anywhere anymore. We never talk anymore. You're hurting and you won't let anyone help you. Even with Link. Helori's even began addressing the coverage for Link's bills to _me_ because she's afraid you won't take them. So p-please, just _quit blaming yourself!_"

"But it was my-" Zelda stuttered, Anjel's grip loosed.

"No, it wasn't, it never was," Anjel said firmly, unconcerned with the stares gathering throughout the train car. _'How can that be true?'_ Zelda thought, feeling her hands begin to buckle, _'It's _my_ fault. _I_ did this. It's my fault Link's in pain. I thought I was protecting them-it's all my-'_

"Zelda?" Anjel began gently, "Are you okay?"

"Please, Anjel, just go away."

***

Link was dreaming. Wandering in a dark reverie stirred either by his restless subconscious or the fifty milligrams of sedatives swimming in his veins. Regardless of origin, it was still a very strange dream.

Link winced, squinting against fire-bright spears of light suddenly assaulting his eyes. The luster receded, dwindling into a significantly smaller sphere that pulsed like a new star. The pulsar swelled, extending tentative tentacles that illuminated the surrounding darkness. Eerie gray mimics bent across the ceiling. The light was trapped. Sealed inside a globe of perfect glass. And Link with it.

A ghostly tentacle snaked over the bowl of the floor, giving off the most peculiar air as it slid past Link, almost as if it were alive. The milky tendrils drifted all around, stroking the sides of the glass like feelers, almost obvious to Link even as they loosely bent aside to brush past him.

__

Hello.

Link started, falling back on the glassy slope, "What?! Who?!"

__

Hello, Link.

"How do you know my name?"

The star shuddered and the voice chuckled, _I know lots more than that._

"Who are you?"

__

I'm your guardian angel, Link. And I'm here to protect you.

"Protect me from what?"

__

From the evils. The shadows invading your soul.

"What shadows?"

__

Dark, evil shadows. They want to kill you. But if you trust me, I'll always protect you. Do you trust me?

Link was quiet for a bit, the threads of shivering light flowing swiftly past him, almost _heavenly_ as they slithered down the slanted floor, "All right. I trust you."

__

Then come to me, Link. Come into my arms, my light, let me hold you, safe and protected. In my light…

The silvery strands gingerly wrapped about his shoulders, caressing his face with their feathery limbs, and drew him within the brilliant shell of the star. The core of star enveloped him like a luminous, downy cloak, soft and warm, Link had never felt so safe.

__

Don't worry, Link, just sleep. Stay with me like this. And just sleep.

***

_If you were pure…_

Malon stirred, her blue eyes rolling back in her head, their pupils shrinking with the flood of artificial light. Blood was caked on the side of her face and the spot just above her left eyebrow was tender.

A pair of hazy angels appeared; their wings were bathed in a soft glow and they wore blue. _'Am I dead? Is this heaven?'_ Little beeps and clicks sounded from somewhere, a voice floated up from nowhere.

'Crash on Field highway, two cars involved, one semi…'

The angels dwindled as Malon's vision sharpened, their wings and luster melted. A young paramedic hovered over her as his elder supervised; watching closely as the young man's concentrated fingers closed the wound with delicate stitches. Malon eyed the still-fuzzy boy tending to her gash, all the pigment had drained from his skin, his hair was bleached platinum and his eyes were a funny shade of pink magenta. An ID card hung about his neck, standing apart from the navy-blue medic's uniform, _ALBATOU, Student trauma Doctor._

"What happened?"-her voice was grating-"my head hurts…"

"I imagine it would," the young medic said as his elder stepped out of the ambulance, "your car was involved in a collusion, you hit your head on the steering wheel."

"That all? It feels like something ran it over." Malon strained her eyes before the paramedic went foggy again. When everything was clear, Malon smiled, eyeing the ID swaying from her healer's neck, "Oh, you're still in medical school?" 

The student paramedic swallowed and stammered, "Excuse me, ma'am. Usually we'd ask permission before allowing a student doctor to examine a patient, but-my supervisor-"

"It's all right," Malon assured, "Really." A light grin crossed her lips; "I remember back when I was a med. student."

"You've got your Ph.D.? In what field?"

"Psychiatry," Malon said, weakly trying to move, her muscles spotted with fresh bruises wishing sorely for aspirin.

"Tough field?" Albatou asked.

"Sometimes, though I'd think your job will be hard."

"Not too hard, as long as you can go two days without sleep, I'm on a practice shift, 12 hours long." The young man took a sip from a cup filled with what looked like coffee, some tacky logo splashed over the styrofoam. 

"You gonna be all right?" he asked, setting the cup down, "Your car was smashed up pretty bad, we'll call a squad car to give you a ride."

"No thanks, I'll be fine," Malon said. She smiled and reached for her purse, feeling strangely renewed and totally free of aches and pains, "Thank you very much, you'll be a great doctor someday. And please don't worry, I'll take a bus."

"But ma'am-are you sure?"

"I'm fine! Good luck with your exams!" 

"Hey-wait!" Malon turned a deaf ear and rounded a corner. Albatou frowned, scratching his head in puzzlement, "How'd she know I'm taking my finals tomorrow?"

*** 

__

Patient Report for: Riles, Link

Date & Time: Nov. 30, 8:56 PM

Given by: Dr. Ganondorf Dragmire

Sometime between 7:30 and 8:15 PM this evening, Riles slipped into a coma-like state. Nurses discovered him at 8:16 PM and believed him to be sleeping until they could get no response after trying to wake him. Blood samples have been sent to the lab for drug testing. As of now, his breathing and heart rate are normal; blood pressure is unchanged, so I see no reason to hospitalize him until the results of the blood test arrive.

***

Sheik was having one of those nightmares that only dead men dream. Where earth and sky embraced in endless gray and legions of tireless feet shuffled along worn-roads like soldiers whose bodies had broken away.Carrion birds swooped down to pick at the unlucky ones. And off in the distance, Styx roared, its swells whispering a beckon that all succumbed too. The Sheikiah jarred awake, the sudden movements not doing wonders for all his hurts. He bit his lip and caught his breath, then flopped down on his blankets again.

It was after midnight and Soara's house was dark, a very comforting kind of dark, where the soft gloom was disturbed only the lances of firelight. Sheik was sprawled out on his bench, heavy blankets of silken-smooth Gerudo weave pulled up to his chin. Navi was snoring on the table, in her cocoon of scarves; a soft, humming nightlight. But despite the many comforts of Soara's home sleep evaded Sheik. And for the next hour, he tossed and turned, listening to Navi's humming snore, which was very irritating since she could sleep and he couldn't, and something else. A little voice, that chilled like dark places, that tapped his shoulder with its scythe and whispered, "_Remember, you're still mine. You can't run, because you're still mine._"

As for Soara, she had left earlier, said she had some 'business' and scaled up the ladder, to her front door then into the storm. Sheik frowned, better part of him ventured that she was racing over the sandy slopes to the Gerudo Fortress right now, though she'd have gone through an awful lot of trouble convincing them to stay to turn traitor now.

Sheik rose stiffly and fitted on his boots. Navi still sleeping as soundly as a stone as he crept up the ladder. It was cold enough to snow outside. A frigid gust of sand and wind rippled through Sheik's tunic and pricked his nape with its ice, rattling the lanterns spaced along the catwalk that wrapped lazily up the side of the house to the roof before it swept away. Sheik braced himself, resting a hand against the building, and trudged up the bridge.

Soara was hunkered down on the roof's edge, wrapped in dusty sage robes. She held a long bow, elegantly dressed in silver gilt and drops of honey-topaz, with a quiver buckled at her shoulder. A familiar ring of ghost light was cast about her until the faint outline of a Poe floating near by melted into nothing.

"Why are you awake?" she asked, her hood falling back.

"Couldn't sleep," Sheik muttered.

"Ah. Well, you can sit down if you like," Soara gestured to the empty spot beside her. Sheik slumped down on the ground, "So, what are you doing out here?"

"Night watch," Soara said grimly, "if anything tries to escape, it would now."

"How can you tell?"

"Listen for the bells," Soara said easily, "there are three of them. The Sleeper, that's the evening bell, the Waker, morning bell, and the Screamer, the panic bell."

"Their tones are different?"

"Of course. The Sleeper is a lullaby, the Waker a wake-up call, and the Screamer is, well-" Soara shifted her bow to rest on her other shoulder, "Aren't you cold?"

"Not really," Sheik admitted.

"I guess Death chases the chill from anyone."

Sheik looked at her about to reply when a terrible screech cut the air, wailing above the storm like a banshee. A ghostly scream that carried over the desert, piercing the night like arrows. Sheik recoiled and Soara shuddered, the tones purling electric jolts through their bodies.

"_That_ was the Screamer," Soara said gruffly, when all was relatively quiet again, "It's a magic bell that temporarily stuns its listeners." She squinted into the shade, "Someone's coming."

***

The bus pulled up a half-block from the asylum and Malon hopped out without a care. Sequins stuck out among gray patches in the sky as she passed under streetlights in quick procession as she approached the glass double doors. Eyes averted as she pushed inside. A clinic lulled by nighttime greeted her as she jogged up the flight of stairs and down the hall. Scanning the doors for those three familiar numbers.

231.

Malon stopped suddenly and opened the door a crack. A ray of light falling across Riles' face as he slept, peaceful and placid, machines moderating his heart rate and breathing. The door shut without a whisper and Malon stole over the room to his bedside. The machines ticking and flashing. She smiled weakly, pushing back the blond bangs. Lying there, with his eyes closed and face still, he looked like Aydin.

Malon took a deep breath, hardening her resolve, and gingerly loosened the wires as the machines died. No one would know what she was about to do. Except the voice on the phone, because that was what it wanted.

She slipped her hand down into her purse, closing her fingers about a slim letter-opener.

__

If you're pure. I'll give you Aydin.

Silent tears filled Malon's eyes, a life for a life. Link would die and she'd have her Aydin back. That's what had Nimbus said. He'd given her his word.

The letter-opener was no razor, but just barely sharp enough to puncture a pinpoint cut in Riles' throat. A fat red bead trickled slowly down his skin and stained the pillow. Malon swallowed, a crimson bud unfolding where the drop settled. The letter-opener pressed a bit harder, tapping more drops and Malon faltered, '_I'm still a murderer both ways.'_

Click!

The lights went on, soft-glow light bulbs suddenly filling the room. The machines began ticking and blinking again. Malon stiffened, feeling hands gingerly free the letter-opener from her tight grip so it clattered on the floor.

"Voices are vain, they go away if they don't have an audience."

Malon shuddered, falling against the stranger, _'I can't…even for Aydin, I can't kill a human being!'_ She sniffled and cried, her face in her hands, until her knees gave out and she crumpled on the floor, feeling the stranger fall with her.

"Thank you," she said into the strange man's chest, "I almost did something I'd regret."

"No problem," the man reassured, "now why don't we take you home?"

End of chapter 11 

I don't know, this chapter's end seemed a little iffy. I might rewrite it. Anyway, I hope you all still liked it!

R&R!

Zel 

Coming Soon:

Chapter 12: Three Strangers


	12. Chapter 12

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: …cricket chirps …

Cricket: I believe you're all smart enough to figure out Zel doesn't own Zelda.

ARGH! I'm sorry everybody! 'Tis a cruel twist of fate that plotted my AOL service to go, bluntly put, KABOOM just as I finished this chapter. (What the hell? Far too much of a coincidence there, ok, it was the day _before_ I finished this chapter. I know; I really shouldn't procrastinate anymore but it's hard!) BAH! Stupid AOL! Evil, evil thing! But on the plus side, I managed to finish 50%+ of chapter 13 over my-er-reluctant vacation, so YAY! Not all is lost!

Kudos to: NeverAgainTruth, Soviet Inclination, Maniac Mosli, Demon wolf, ^_^, Lilflippinogirl, Queen of Blades, Angered Fairy, Trickcard, SSJ, Link0723, and FoRgOtTeN! Thank you all for your patience!

R&R!

~~~~~~

Chapter 12: Cause and Effect

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andrea Flint owned a small Apartment Complex just outside the city in a quiet residential area canopied by trees still green despite the dying year. Earlier that day, the 20-car parking lot on her property had been clustered with squad cars and confused neighbors.

Mrs. Flint now sat in her living room, the curtains parted just enough to show it was getting dark and Malon Kit's usual parking space was still empty. The police had already left, along with the ambulance that had come to collect Aydin Kit's body. She'd promised to call them once Malon returned.

She admitted hardly knew the Kits and was acquainted with them only as their landlady. Yet, even from the landlady perspective, they'd seemed such a happy couple, like nothing in the world could dampen their lives. _'What a terrible surprise today's been,'_ Mrs. Flint thought morosely. She could only begin to imagine that young woman's pain. True, she herself had lost her husband three years ago to lung cancer but at least she'd been able to say good-bye and lead a happy marriage with him. Poor Malon had lost her best friend, the man she chose to spend her life with, all without caution or forewarning, what could possibly hurt more?

Headlights brightened the evening gloom as a car pulled weakly into the spot three down from the front doors. Malon Kit stepped out from the passager seat. She looked absolutely wrenched, with mascara tears running down her face and tousled hair. A tall young man came around the car and held her, guiding her carefully towards the door.

Mrs. Flint tried very hard not to cry at the sight of the poor woman. Wishing she knew the deceased better, so she could say something nice or at least rid her mind of the fixed, white-wax face with blood dried to the corners of the mouth and caked around the eyelashes. Imprinted there like dry cement, the only dead man she'd ever seen besides her husband.

But she was glad Malon had found someone to confide in. _'God's angels guard that poor girl in her pain-'_ Mrs. Flint stopped mid-prayer as the pair rounded up the stairs, _'Was that man wearing pajamas?'_

***

Malon entered the dark apartment and slumped down on the sofa. Just breathing, slow and steady, tasting the funny, new smells in the apartment. Cigarettes and a dying cloud of perfume, but no Aydin smell. No warm embrace of his cologne or the crisp dry-cleaners scent of his clothes. No whisper or whiff that suggested his loving presence at all. Malon felt sad, angry, betrayed, wounded, and all together broken. Aydin's abrupt end had shattered her and she didn't know where to begin picking up the pieces.

Her unknown friend shifted uncertainly, attracting Malon's glance. In the dim, she could see he wore a light-colored coat that stopped just past his knees, his pants were stripped and on his feet were…slippers? She stiffened, sinking deeper into the cushions, _'Oh God, a patient?!'_ She had unknowingly guided a possibly dangerous and unstable person out of the asylum and _into her home_. _Ridden_ with _him _on the bus to the garage were Aydin stored his car. And even let him _drive_ her home. She rose uneasily and switched on the lamp; the young escapee winced in the sudden light.

"Give me the keys," Malon said rigidly, "I'm going to take you back to the Asylum."

"No!" the young man protested, he stood a head taller than Malon, blond hair hanging in messy strands to his chin and bloody-red eyes, "I can't go back!"

"Why not?" Malon asked.

"People are dying! And it's hot, burning. Doctor-please-help-" Sweat beaded on his brow and he stumbled. Malon gasped, supporting the man on her shoulder and flopping him on the couch. His skin was blistering and the muscles twitched like a fever spike. Malon hurried into the kitchen, grabbing cold packs, ice and soaking a washcloth in icy water. She pressed the cold packs on the shaking man and smoothed the cloth over his forehead. Feeling the spasms lessen as his fever dropped.

***

Soara grimaced, sand and cold filtering through the layers of her coat. This was just what she needed! It would be hard enough evading Ganondorf's clutches and a fugitive would only add to the burden! But that was the least of her problems, the Fortress commander could send a troop intended to capture the runaway slave, they'd uncover her secret doings and…death. Within twelve hours she'd be swinging from one of the skeletal trees outside in the valley. Just like that, finished, deceased, the end to all her trying to change things. Someone else would take her place as Border Guard, a pliant filly, fresh from Koume and Kotake's careful teachings, totally merciless and ready to kill at the drop of the King's hand. She couldn't loose this position, not to someone like _that_; therefore she simply could not die. Ganondorf couldn't replace her if she didn't die.

Voices floated across the empty sea of sand as the pursuing horde was halted at the rim of the River of Sand. Someone screamed: a frantic shrieking before being swallowed up by the quicksand currents. Arrows whistled; falling aimlessly on the other side of the river, their target lost and their flights distorted by the sand. The sound of the arrows falling like dead flies soared across the desert like sound over a cold lake, Soara frowned; the runaway had breached the river.

Sheik sat in silence, listening to the far-off shouting. The whorl of yelling and wind made him shiver, the sounds themselves had a chill worst than the nighttime desert. Especially that woman's cry as she died, a wailing like that of the souls of sinners as the Styx devoured them, their spirits weighed down by the tonnage of their deeds. Since the fight with Twinrova, Death's ominous cloak had found him and suddenly filled his every thought. Reminding him he wasn't part of this world anymore and sooner or later, she'd hold him in her bony arms again. Sheik felt like a worn-out candle, dwindled to a puddle of old wax, given a new wick. Butter across too much bread and worst of all, the bread wasn't even his. He sighed, derailing the train of thought, thinking instead that if he'd never died he'd be thirty-six this year. Fourteen years older than Soara. They never would have met up again. Perhaps, none of this would have ever happened…

A man-shape staggered out of the sandy murk, limping, a second humanoid shape cradled in his arms. If she squinted, Soara could vaguely see arrows jutting from his shoulder and down his arm. He stumbled a few more feet and fell, rolling down the dune slope, sheltering the second shape in his arms until they slowed to a stop, then lay still. 

Soara slung her bow across her back and climbed down from the roof, rounding the house before headed down to the small, attached shed sunken in sand. Inside was a cozy stable occupied by a lonely Gerudo stallion; his hide black and shiny like ebony. Soara roused him from his stupor and mounted the beast. Reluctantly the charger left his warm adobe house and headed out into the storm.

When Soara arrived, the two persons lay buried in sand. Responding with low groans when she shook them. Then in the dust and wind, Soara toiled until both were secured on the horse before riding back to her outpost.

"What's going on?" Navi asked as light filled the room and Soara and Sheik dragged the unconscious persons into the back bedroom where Link was once again relocated from his bench to a nice patch of clean floor.

One of them was very much awake as he began screaming when Soara touched his arm the wrong way, pain shooting up the limb.

"Help me," Soara said, "I think he's broken it. And those arrows will have to come out too." The man lashed out and caught the neck of Soara's robes. "Help Marzipin first," he muttered, "don't help me until she's safe." Soara pried his fingers from the collar of her robes and stood up, shaking her head. She went over and knell beside the senseless girl stretched out on a bench.

'Marzipin' was, in fact, a Gerudo, dark-skinned with her flaming hair cropped short. Her arms and legs carried the scars of those who had grown up in slavery beneath Ganondorf's Fortress. She was still youthfully pretty despite the many old hurts. 

Soara loosened the rags and explored the young woman's bones. Firm and unbroken beneath her fingers, just like she knew they would be. She trailed her hands over the unhurt ribs, stopping as her fingers detected an unpleasant wetness; blood. She gingerly drew aside the crimson-soaked rags and a long diagonal gorge opened up the poor girl's stomach. The ruined flesh was sticky with red and a stink rose up from the shredded insides. Soara swallowed; human innards made her sick every horrible time she had to see them.

"Marzipin?" the young man asked from short distance that suddenly seemed so much wider, across the room.

"I'm sorry," Soara said grimly, coming back to the boy's side, "I can do nothing for her." He stiffened, his chest heaving with panicky gasps, "No…no! Marzipin! No! No! That can't! _Nooo_!"

"Quiet!" Soara hissed, pressing down on the young man's shoulders, "You'll hurt yourself! Do you want to die too?" Silent tears died on the pallet, already soaked in fresh blood.

"Well?" Soara asked again, "You've come this far! Do you want to die now?" The boy swallowed, crimson-traced tear-stains sliding down his face, "N-no, Ma'am." Soara softened slightly, "Good. Now hold still. This will hurt." Soara fixed her fingers just above the arrow's thorn and yanked.

Navi winced as the boy cried aloud. Sheik and she had pressed into a corner to give Soara her space. 

"Bite down on this," Soara said, putting the shaft between the boy's jaws, "or you might loose your tongue."

Gerudo arrows, Navi knew, were nasty little hornets. Their points shaped into wicked little hooks that snarled and imbedded themselves in the wound, tearing at already injured tissues when they were pulled loose. She shuddered, there were _five_ darts in total. Running like barbs down the young man's arm. And Soara pulled out each one and put her clever hands to work. Her fingers wove healing magic as they passed over the hurts, closing the gaping holes with tight, little stitches and smearing them with herbal solace. It was dawn when the work was finally done and the boy had gone to sleep.

"This is most…unexpected," Soara announced, sinking down at her table. Navi was dozing in the pale violet of daybreak. Sheik was still awake, mediating into space on his bench.

"I'm going to try and wake up your friend," Soara said tiredly, "After that I'll going to bed. Don't let me sleep past dusk, we must be away by moonrise."

"Soara?" Navi asked, "Are you sure? You don't look well." Soara smiled softly, "I'll be fine. Get some sleep you two."

"We could wait if you need too!" Navi interjected.

"There's no time," Soara muttered, leaning against the threshold, "Gerudo soldiers will be coming this way. If they find him, Link, here, alive, we're all as good as dead." Sheik nodded and shot Navi a glance that quieted her.

"Good morning, everybody," Soara said and shuffled into Link's corner of the room. She slipped her hand in his, the dusky, starless black appearing on the backs of her eyelids. The brilliant star of the Mind-trap spell burning like a flame, a solo candle or maybe a holiday sparkler. Soara swallowed and plucked a shining drop of light from her spirit form. It gleamed like a newly-minted coin, smooth and golden. She pressed the cold sol to her lips, breathing life and purpose into the tiny bead. Soara had every intention of sculpting the ghost in her image, focusing so it matched her face and form. But she was tired, her mind slipping, like sleep into dream…and Sheik had such pretty eyes.

***

The runaway had been asleep for several hours during which Malon had tried to wake him. He must have been dehydrated and didn't seem to have had any water in the last few days. She wondered why no one at the clinic seemed to have noticed.

Malon held in the clinic-bracelet between two fingers, _Jean Shosha_. It sounded French, the 'Jean' part anyway. And according the laminated ring, Jean was also a Schizophrenic. She frowned, remembering the lucid conversation and words of comfort, he certainly didn't seem like a Schizophrenia patient. Not at all, and Malon, especially, knew Schizophrenia in all its faces. Several of her patients were Schizophrenics, even Navi Wicket; she was beginning to suspect, was victim of a mild child-schizophrenia. This young man seemed almost perfectly sane.

"Jean," Malon's voice took on a gentler, patient tone, soft like she were speaking to a child as Jean stirred, "Why did you want to leave the asylum?" Jean rolled his lucent red eyes slowly to meet hers, then dropped them close again, murmuring in a distant voice, "There's something evil in that building, Doctor. It burns like a red star. People are dropping because of it, doctors and patients alike. It wants the world to burn."

Malon flinched, suddenly remembering blue and red flashes as an ambulance had turned towards the hospital, "Do you know why? Why is everyone fainting?" Jean closed his eyes tiredly, "Because the star, Nimbus, wants Link to die."

"Jean, what are you talking about?" Malon asked, "do you know? About the shadow in Navi's room?"

"The Shadow? Yes, I know a little…it is not Nimbus but still akin to it."

"What is it?"

"It is the Twin, the Brother Star. The Twin kept in the shadows. It too wants to kill Link."

***

Navi drifted listlessly through the cottage. Sheik was sleeping, heavily at that, and Navi wagered that even an army of Iron Knuckles thundering past couldn't have wakened him. Soara was sleeping too, her head cushioned on her arms at her kitchen table, the fringe of a rumpled shawl falling across her face. 

It was nearly noon and Navi couldn't stand it. All this quiet! She'd learned to hate quiet during her time with Link, because quiet usually met something lay in wait, ready to spring from the shadows and tear Link to pieces. On the subject of Link, Navi flittered off into the backroom; eyes averted from the shrouded figure with a small cluster of fragrant, dried flowers resting at its breast. Her charge was still sleeping, innocent and child-like, occasionally sighing. The fairy sunk down on the ground, dejected, just when was Soara's spell going to work?

The boy moaned, grimacing as he accidentally put pressure on his wounded arm. His eyelids flickered; the irises were deep, violent hazel. Navi lifted to the air, settling down on his pallet cross-legged.

"What's your name?" she asked good-naturedly.

"Trian," the boy said, pained as he sat up.

"You shouldn't move, Trian. If you hurt yourself more, Soara will get mad."

"Soara? Oh, _Malachai…_"

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That word you said? Mala-chai?"

"Oh!" Trian frowned, "It's Gerudo for healer, wise-woman."

"Why do you call her that?"

"Because, that's what everyone called her before she became the Border Guard," Trian said, leaning tentatively against the wall.

"Do you know Soara?"

"No, but I saw her once, one day when she came to the Valley," Trian calculated days, weeks and months that had dissolved into meaningless passage of time, "three years ago…I think."

Navi's honey eyes were wide; "Did Ganondorf force her to leave? Was she exiled?"

"No, it was her place, her duty as Malachai."

Trian was a student, or had been, an apprentice magic-worker taken in the destruction of Hyrule Castle Town six years prior. Numbered like so many hundreds of other powerless Hylians and given onto the dark embrace of the fortress bowels where he'd met Marzipin. They'd planed to escape to the emptied Spirit temple, vacant since the discharge of Ganondorf's troops apart from the witches who never left their parlor and could be easily avoided, until Hyrule was safe again.

The morning stretched into blazing blue of the afternoon, lulling idly into pink-champagne colored evening spangled with sparse flecks of starlight. Link still slept and Navi despaired silently. He wasn't ever going to wake up, not ever. Link was dead. Dead to the world, like that princess in the old stories, fated to slumber unchanging through the centuries until the world wasted to dust and all around her was changed. Navi curled up in the palm of his glove after Trian had dozed off, feeling the warmth radiate through the sword-worn leather. _'I'll stay, Link, even if you sleep until the End of World I'll stay, I'll be here when you wake up…'_

Sheik awoke first, then Soara, rousing like her sleeping brain were made of stone. Trian's bandages were changed as Navi gave him an abridged version of her and Link's business in the desert, the battle with the witches and Link's curse. A gloomy cloud descending on the house's occupants as Link still slept despite Soara's sacrifice of life and spirit.

"I was afraid of this," Soara admitted, "I'm sorry. I'm not strong enough to lift the spell by myself." 

"I'll give you my power!" Trian said, trying to stand and failing as his limbs protested, "It's not a lot but for Hyrule…"

"Thank you, but I still won't be strong enough to wake him, not here anyway. Since Ganondorf came to Throne, the Desert must be draining energy, which makes sense, as apart from the slaves no one has the will to rebel. To use anymore power would be a waste," Soara said, glancing about the room, "We must leave. To wake Link we must go to the Last Holy Place."

"Where's that?" Navi asked, finding comfort on Trian's shoulder. She liked Hylians, just the right height, taller than Soara but not as tall as Sheik.

"The Last Reservoir, the Mouth of all power," Sheik murmured, "The Shrine where the Goddesses departed this world for the shining glory of the Firmament, The Temple of Time."

End of chapter 12 

Malachai – derived from Malachi, a guy whose exact purpose I don't remember, but he appears in the bible somewheres and it's a cool name! As for the word Malachai itself, I don't _think_ it means something all ready. Also, just to note, the Sheik in this story is decidedly more masculine then he appears in the game, so he gets to be taller than everybody! ^_^ (He's probably got a—er-, nevermind.) Also Trian, though he might not seem important, has yet a part to play in the unfolding drama. (In short, don't hurt him. He's a whimp, yes, but don't hurt him.) Well, anyway, that was much better than the _original_ chapter 12! (Which mightily sucked.) Also, the date has been set, time to celebrate, I think, as there are only four chapters to go! Start the countdown!

Once again, I thank everyone for their patience as I beat the bugs out of my computer. It's been especially evil as of late. Please forgive me for its awful behavior.

R&R!

Zel 

Next Chapter 13 – *As of Current, Untitled* 


	13. Chapter 13

Harsh Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~

By Zel the Stampede

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: …kills disclaimer I don't own Zelda, just change it to my liking!

Oh me. Figures that _this_ chapter would be _chapter 13_. Eeep, please don't hurt me for this chapter, _please_!!! Anyway, on lighter notes, be happy. Chapter 14 is already plotted out and hopefully, _hopefully_ I'm typing it out as you read this. (Just in case, if you want, feel free to IM me every time I get on and say, "WHERE'S CHAPTER 14? WHY ISN'T IT DONE YET?") (SailorZel118, knock yourselves out.) (zelthestampede@hotmail.com for the MSN-users.)

Kudos to: Maniac Mosli, Sci-fi-friend, LilFilipinoGurl, angeredfairy, Demon Wolf, Saridaru-chan, FieryOne, Pata25, LinkSage, and Dekustar the Mad Author. THANK YOU!

R&R!

~~~~~~

Chapter 13: Murder

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelda felt bad, no, terrible as she walked down the stained pavement to her block. A lonely car rumbled down the street and turned into a parking garage as she passed, a train roared off in the distance. A symphony of nighttime city sounds delighting the ears of those who took pleasure in listening.

__

'Please, just go away.'

She shouldn't have said those things to Anjel. After all, Anjel was only being a friend. She was only worried about Zelda, who knew she'd been anything but herself since the accident. Zelda sniffled, turning up to her apartment building, _'Why do I keep hurting people close to me? Why do terrible things keep happening? Why can't everything just…'_ Zelda shuddered, sinking down on her porch and having a good cry, a cry like she hadn't had since the night she'd spent in the lobby at the ER, thinking that Link had left her forever.

Footsteps sounded on the asphalt, disturbing a gutter pool. A man stood in a puddle of streetlight, tall and stately despite the graying black jacket and pants. Messy blond curls ringed his face and his eyes were red, deep, dark, empathetic red. Zelda felt like she could have fallen and peacefully drowned in those eyes. He wore a medallion suspended from a string, out of place against his attire, but it gleamed like a freshly minted golden dollar, beside it hung a dagger, small with a curved blade, twisted like a crescent moon.

Zelda knew this man, even without seeing him she'd know him, he blazed a familiarity like that of a beloved brother, respected friend, most secret lover. She trembled, the glimmer of streetlight caressing the sickle-blade.

"I'm sorry, this isn't your fault," the man said, his voice so unsettlingly, irkingly familiar that Zelda wanted to beat the insides of her memory until she remembered, "you did nothing but it must be so. For the good of the World it must be so." He freed the dagger from the lash and pressed the blade to the creamy skin of Zelda's throat.

"Forgive me, Zelda, forgive me," the man said again, "I don't want this." And he opened her, ruby cascades sputtering over the gash as Zelda gave a wet, gurgling sound and collapsed on the cement. Blood reddening her hair as vermilion seas lapped her still form. Tears broke on the crimson oceans as the man melted in a misting of late-evening rain.

***

(DON'T KILL THE AUTHOR!) (At least not yet…)

***

The night had passed quietly, Jean slept and Malon, with a mug of coffee and a novel Aydin had always wanted her to read, kept nocturnal vigil. The radio hummed pleasantly, set to Aydin's favorite station, a collection of mismatched CDs piled beside it, all Aydin's. Since he left, everything suddenly screamed Aydin. 

Grayish morning light filled the apartment, it was still rainy, still cloudy and there were _still_ leaves on the trees. What an odd December day or she thought it was December. Anyway, it seemed right that it should be December. December was gray, and until the Holiday season exploded into full swing, it was a sad month. But all and all, Time had a funny feeling of just going whenever it wanted lately.

Malon closed her book; it was good, just as Aydin said it would be and it was definitely his kind of book. Turmoil and fantasy wrapped in the shimmer of modern times. She wished he were here, so she could tell him all about it, what she thought of the hero, his princess, everything.

Jean stirred, feeling noticeably better even if he could only recall bits and pieces of what he'd said the night before. Recollection came easier once Malon had relayed it all back to him. Jean said it was all wrong, and that it didn't make sense, this life they led, it seemed a dream. Malon wasn't sure if this was a symptom of his Schizophrenia or not but the lack of care he'd received plus being able to leave untouched with her, sane or not, disturbed her and made her wonder. How was Navi doing? Was she all right? Were they taking care of her?

"Jean, who's your doctor?" Malon asked, offering him a cup of hot chocolate. Jean frowned, feeling the warmth of the hot cup seep into his fingers. He was _supposed_ to have a doctor, no one is institutionalized without the counsel of a doctor but Jean _didn't_ have one. No doctor he could remember anyway, and nothing much else, it was as if he's woken up a week ago and merely started _existing_.

"You can't tell me? And there was no patient's number on your bracelet," Malon said, "Technically, you shouldn't be allowed in the asylum at all! Do you remember where you live? Your parents?" More blanks, more no's, Jean suddenly reminded Malon of an extra in a play, a lonely actor who was more the background than a character. 

A mild amnesia, perhaps? But _no one_ was ever committed just for amnesia. Jean told Malon about the last seven days of his life, which were all he could remember, nothing else.

"I'm not sure what's wrong with your memory, Jean, but to me, you seem altogether sane. Anyway, what you've told me of the Hospital is, well, more than slightly disturbing. I'm going back there and I'd like you to come, perhaps we can find your missing doctor."

***

The Temple of Time, where it all had began. _'Will it end there?'_ Navi thought. Meanwhile in dim backroom, Soara planned her last performance. She'd leave Gerudo Valley for good, and with a bang.

"A coffin?!" Navi shrieked, horrified, "You want to put him in a _coffin?!_"

"Yes," Soara answered, "I don't see what so terrible about that."

"B-b-but! He's not dead!" Navi protested, "What if he wakes up!"

"After Twinrova and Soara's spell, I think Link can sleep through a little bumping," Sheik said wryly.

"But you can't!" Navi cried.

"We'll put air-holes in it, just in case he wakes up," Trian helped, his arm aching in its sling, "You can go in too, keep him company." Navi blanched at first and sighed, "Okay, but if he goes mad from being trapped in that death box it's you all that I'm blaming!"

***

The Hospital server was surprisingly cooperative. Letting Malon call up patient files and doctor profiles without screaming and shutting down in horror. In fact, Jean's records came up with ease. Malon frowned, her eyes sliding down the columns of data; none of this made the slightest bit of sense. 

Name: Shosha, Jean

Blood type: O

Room: 324

Schizophrenia

Date of commission: _not found_

Doctor: _not found_

Date of Birth: 11/24/02

Age: _not found_

Address: _not found_

Social Security Number: _not found_

Insurance: _not found_

Immediate family members: _not found_

Phone number: _not found_

There was an unsettling amount of empty spaces but that wasn't the worst of it. There was no way Jean could only be seven days old!

"Must be a virus," Malon murmured to no one in particular, as Jean, who'd been watching over her shoulder, nodded. The keys clicked as Navi Wicket's file came up.

Name: Wicket, Navi

Blood type: AB

Room: 145

Severe/violent hallucinations, possible Mild-Child Schizophrenia, not yet determined

Date of commission: _not found_

Doctor: Kit, Malon Ph.D.

Date of Birth: 11/24/02

Age: _not found_

Address: _not found_

Social Security Number: _not found_

Insurance: _not found_

Immediate family members: _not found_

Phone number: _not found_

'This is silly,' Malon searched her own memory, certainly if the computer couldn't, she could pinpoint the identities of Mr. and Mrs. Wicket! Maybe even remember their phone-number! But she _couldn't_. Blanks surfaced in her mind's eye, she couldn't register voice or face. She'd never met those people. According to her, they didn't exist. Malon swallowed, calling up her own personal file.

Name: Kit, Malon Ph.D.

Office: Nurse station A2

Date of Birth: 11/24/02

Ph.D.: Neuropsychiatry

Age: _not found_

Address: _not found_

Phone number: _not found_

Patients: _not found_

Curiosity struck like a small bolt of lightening, Malon's fingers moving as if by their own will, punching in the following words: RILES, LINK.

Name: Riles, Link

Blood type: A-

Room: 231

Disruption of neurons, severe hallucinations

Date of commission: 11/24/02

Doctor: Dragmire, Ganondorf Ph.D.

Date of Birth: 12th Moon of Blue in the year of Gemini

Age: 17

Address: The tree house with the dragon picture

Social Security Number: Not valid

Insurance: Not valid

Immediate family members: Celia, mother (deceased), Accalon, father (deceased) Helori, sister (living) 

Family's Current Residence: Kakariko Village, Hyrule-FATAL ERROR-FATAL ERROR

"Oh no! Come back!" Malon cursed, "Stupid machine!"

'_You've got mail!'_ Malon brightened at the voice, accessing the smiling mailbox, its red flag flying proudly.

Nimbus2000@angelnetwork.net - IMPORTANT PLEASE READ

The mouse flittered across the screen, clicking on the new mail.

THIS INFORMATION IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN, MRS. KIT. PLEASE DO NOT PRY WHERE YOU DON'T BELONG. YOURS AND THE PRESENCE OF OTHERS ARE ALL READY STIRRING UP ENOUGH INCONVENIENCE. PLEASE DESIST FROM FURTHER INQUISITION OR I WILL BE COMPELLED TO PERMANENTLY REMOVE YOU.

"What the hell…?" Malon scrolled further down the letter, "What is this?"

__

"You've got mail!"

Malon glanced up nonchalantly, a nurse sauntering by, then trying to be casual, opened the new message.

__

'get out of there now'

Dr. Kit frowned, trying to calm the rising swell of alarm as she closed the screen. She sighed, looking at Jean and handed him her keys, "Jean, Navi's room is 145 on the second floor, please go upstairs and get her. I'll be waiting in the parking lot for you but…" Malon smiled, "if I'm late, please leave without me." Jean nodded, stashing the keys in the pocket of Aydin's jacket, the dusty leather fit to frame, before leaving the room. Silence fell apart form a rustling of papers as Malon shifted manually through folds, accidentally knocking her wedding portrait on the floor. The frame clattered loudly on the floor, a thread-line crack streaking through Aydin's handsome face.

"Mrs. Malon Kit?"

Malon jumped, whirling around. A man stood in the doorway of the office, very prim and clean-cut in a dark, expensive suit. His blond hair was slicked back and curling about his ears in shiny, plastic twists; he wore shades.

"Yes. That's me," Malon said.

"Mrs. Kit, my name is Mr. Wood," the suit said, "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind having a chat with me over coffee?"

Malon's stomach faulted, sinking as a prickly dread sprung up inside it. _'This is about Aydin, it must be,'_ she told herself, _'I'll only be gone a bit. Besides Jean has the keys.'_

"All right," Malon said gently as Mr. Wood nodded.

***

Navi was in her room. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, paper and pencils discarded on the floor. Colorless eyes of a half-finished portrait gazing at the ceiling, salt-streaks distorted the charcoal lines of the face, trailing long dark stains.

__

'…Link said he was my friend…I trusted him…he was my friend…but he won't come and see me…why?' Navi teared up again, biting down on her finger, the skin raw and red under her teeth. _'Why? Why wouldn't he come to see me?'_ More tears, brimming over, painting silver misery on his dismal face. _'I don't understand…Link, you're my friend…I…I want to help you. More than anything, since the day I met you, I've wanted to help you…because…'_ Navi reached out tentatively, pressing her fingers to the wall, seven rooms down from her very cell was Link's room. Their beds were even in the same place, tucked up in the corner of the west and south walls. _'…Because…I'm the Only One…the Only One who can really protect you…that is my…you're my…trust. I feel something…something's wrong.'_ Navi got up unsteadily, looking for her shoes, if Link wasn't going to come to her, she'd go to him! Navi stepped into her slip-ons and tossed on a robe, whipping the door out and stopping cold dead.

"Who are you?"

Jean stiffened, doors really didn't usually do that, rip open from under your fingertips and suddenly reveal little girls in pin-stripe pale blue robes.

  
"Are you Navi?" he asked uncertainly, the child nodded. Big blue eyes looking searchingly into the crimson that gazed back, "And who are you?"

"I'm Jean."

"Jean?"

"Dr. Kit sent me to get you."

Distress flickered across Navi's face, "Where am I going?"

Jean fumbled with his words, Malon hadn't filled in this part of the job; "Dr. Kit's taking you to another facility."

"Dr. Kit's back from her vacation all ready?" Navi asked, "but I can't go yet!"

"Well, we have to go now-Dr. Kit-"

"Ms. Malon doesn't understand then! I have to see Link! See him _now_!" Navi said strongly, ducking under Jean's arm and dashing down the hall. Jean spun around; chills trickling down his spine, _'No-'_

"Navi! Wait!" he shouted, sprinting after her. Navi hardened and opened the door to Link's room, smiling brightly and "Link! Link, I came to see you!-" She fell quiet as a sword slid out of the door frame with sinister, metallic slither.

"What are you doing here?" a voice grated, the edge of the sword gliding up Navi's throat and over her lips to rest on the tip of her nose. Jean froze behind Navi, a dark-clad swordsman standing in the doorway. The black of his clothes shimmered and rippled, up and down his figure, almost breathing as if it were as alive as he was. He was frigidly pale, with bloody-ice eyes, sloppily cut gold bangs and a bright gold crescent gleamed among the night-colors. Jean felt his eyes grow wide, the new-star gold of the curve-knife dark and tarnished with rusty-brown.

"You-you killed Nimbus!" the words shot from his mouth unbidden and the man crushed them with his stillness.

"Yes, he said at last, "I killed the shell Nimbus was hiding in," a pause, "but-" he glanced to Link, sleeping innocently and wrapped in robin's-egg blue blankets, "he still won't wake up." The young man looked to Jean despairingly as Jean grew silent in his confusion. Nimbus? Who was Nimbus? Navi, who had been quiet at his side, spoke up.

"Sinner," she seethed, "Sinner! _You killed the Brilliant Lord Nimbus!_ SINNER! YOU MUST DIE!" Jean looked at the girl by his side in surprise, somehow this seemed very out of character for her. The dark man whirled back as Navi flew at him, teeth and nails bared, seeming fully intent on ripping his throat out with her bare hands.

"Navi!-" Jean grabbed her round the waist as the girl clawed at his jacket, "Navi?! What's wrong with you?!"

"_He has to die!"_ Navi growled,_ "The Sinner must die! By Order of the Great Light, Nimbus, the Sinner MUST DIE!"_ The stranger grimaced, pulling off one of his gloves Jean hadn't noticed them before. Until the fine black leather was sliding free of his fingers silkily. Then with the bared hand he touched her, wrapped his fingers around Navi's wrist and she cried. Hot tears suddenly spilling down her cheeks, "It burns! Stop it, please! You're hurting me!" 

Jean leapt forward, tearing them apart, his skin searing as it touched the man's naked arm. _'What-what the hell is **he?'**_ Navi cried, kissing her wounded forearm, "Ow, what? Why? What happened?"

Jean hissed in realization of his own pain, swallowing the discomfort as Navi fell against him. The man put his glove back on, "You'll be all right now. Both of you, because soon, you'll realize that this is just a dream."

"W-who are you?!" Jean barked; Navi's face lifting from his shoulder and she sighed.

"He's Link, of course, and this world is all a dream…"

- Fin

__

Whoa, that was weird. O_O But I kinda like it! ^_^ Please, please, please leave a review!

- Zel


	14. Chapter 14

Harsh Reality

------------------

By Zel the Stampede

------------------

Disclaimer: I do not own Zelda.

Forgive me all, but I've been in a very uncreative mood for this story as I've had a kind-of rocky last six months or so where I really haven't written anything. Then one afternoon, in order to keep myself from thinking terrible thoughts such as the UPS man ate my Trigun DVDs, I decided to work on some stories ^_^ and got a ton of ideas for this one.

So, without further adieu, I give you Chapter 14.

Kudos to:

Heads Up - @.@ This chapter has an insane amount of dialogue . and the largest number of unacceptable words to date, so ^.^ Look out!

R&R!

---------

Chapter 14 - Poison

---------

"Thank you, Trian," Soara said thoughtfully, spreading a sandy-colored blanket over Link's body as Sheik carried the limp corpse of the Gerudo girl outside into the dry air, "my only regret is that I could not give her freedom in life."

The stiff girl fitted ideally over Link, even leaving room for the coffin-lid to be nailed snuggly.

"You're welcome, Malachai," Trian said earnestly, "I only wish…"

"No time," Sheik said, "regards can be given later, we have to get him to the Temple of Time before it's too late."

Soara nodded, tightening the last of the rigs to her demon of a horse, "Let's be off."

---

"A dream?!" Jean asked, "That's ridiculous!"

"But we're not real," Navi tried to explain, "because you see-"

"That's not true either," the dark stranger said, "you are real but not in any sense that you can understand."

"What are you saying?" Jean demanded.

"See?" the stranger said with an exasperated sigh, "you can't understand even if you wanted too. The Hero of Time, him,"-he pointed to Link, "has been magically poisoned by a very, very nasty spell and you two, along everything around you are all part of the venom."

"Who's Nimbus then?" Jean shot.

"Nimbus is the greatest carrier of the toxic agent, he hid himself in the Princess's image," the man said, sheathing his sword, "because, though Link might not even realize it yet, the Princess holds a great influence over him. With the false princess, Nimbus planned to destroy this boy from the inside out. I had hoped, that by killing that lie, the poison would leave his body, but nothing's changed."

"Who are you?" Navi asked, "you feel like Link but…"

"I am Link as much as I am not Link," the stranger said with a cryptic smile, "I am Dark Link."

"…Dark Link? What's that supposed to mean?" Jean pressed.

"It means I am the Other, the Hero of Time's baneful twin," Dark Link said, "I met my 'brother' in the Temple of the Water Sage, we sparred, he won, I lost, so I returned to the place from where I came, his soul. Only to find it…" Dark Link glanced around the room carefully, "Not as I left it. Infected, changed, very frightening for the only evil bit of the Hyrule's destined Guardian. And then I met you." Dark Link gazed down his nose at Navi, "I met you that rainy night several days ago and unlike so many others I've stalked in these terrifying halls, you felt safe. I wanted to touch you then Link came and I hid. I sought you out again and I purged your friend Malon of her own poisonous substance just like I've purged the both of you. Nimbus can't control you anymore which is what he tried to do with Navi earlier. That was Nimbus's anima that tried to kill me, not Navi."

"The shadow," Navi gasped, having recovered from her shock, "the cold, dark thing-but you look so different now!"

"I know," Dark Link said dryly, "I found the Good Witch's ghost, her servant, originally sent to kill Nimbus. I touched it and was healed. It gave me purpose, it gave me a face, and now, I have to finish its mission."

"I don't understand-" Jean began.

"You're not meant too," Dark Link finished, "now, Dr. Kit gave you the keys to her car, kindly give them to me and free Link from that dreadful machine, we're going for a ride."

---

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Kit," Mr. Wood said discreetly, "I know this must be a very painful time for you."

Malon nodded, sliding into the hunter-green booth at the coffee shop, "It is, Mr. Wood, but I'm trying to cope since after all, the World's not going to stop turning anytime soon!" Wood smiled at her optimism, the smile fading as Malon's face fell, "I only wish Aydin might have said something to me, I'd have done anything to keep _that_ from happening."

"It's not your fault," Mr. Wood said, patting her hand gently.

"I appreciate that," Malon brightened as a waitress set down two paper-mugs of steamy, flavored coffee-"Thank you-but, Mr. Wood, what is this about?"

"Well, Mrs. Kit, it's about you, me and well, us," Mr. Wood said uneasily. Malon arched an eyebrow, puzzled, "_Us_? Mr. Wood-what are you talking about-?"

"Just hear me out," Wood said sharply, lightly grasping her wrist, "and look at me." Malon was generally creeped out but this was only a prelude, as Mr. Wood reached to remove his shades. Malon jolted, flew out of her seat, knocking the coffee over as her knee struck the table, _'No!-Good God, no.'_

"_Aydin?!_-No, you can't-Aydin's dead!" Malon stammered, "what is this?! Some kind of sick joke?!"

'Wood' put his shades back in attempt to calm her and took her hand carefully in both of his, "No, it really is me. It's Aydin, Malon."

"No, no-you're dead-I saw you-you _died!_" Malon stammered helplessly, coming to tears as Aydin got up and touched her shoulder.

"I'm not dead, I'm right here," he said warmly, "I'm so sorry to have had to trick you-"

"Trick me?" Malon said suddenly.

"I had too, Malon," Aydin said deeply, "if I didn't do anything, you were going to die. If Link continues to exist, we will all die."

Malon pulled away, "What's so important about Riles? He's been coming up a lot lately and _how _do you know about him?"

"Nimbus told me," Aydin admitted, "Nimbus told me all about Link."

"What about Link?"

"How he's not from around here and the World will be destroyed if he continues to exist."

"Don't talk crazy-"

"I'm not crazy, I'm very sane, Malon, if I didn't act, everything would die, I'd lose you and I can't bear that thought."

Malon felt very uncomfortable and the surrounding coffee shop seemed disturbingly empty.

"Aydin, I-"

"_Help me_, Malon. Help me get into the Asylum, help me kill Link so we, together, can be safe."

"How?"

"Nimbus will make it possible because Nimbus is all-knowing, all-powerful-"

"Aydin, you're scaring me."

"I know it's hard to understand right now but, you'll see soon," Aydin stroked her face, the closeness terribly unsettling Malon as she longed to escape. Her eyes grew dark with wisdom previously unknown.

"That's not true, Aydin," Malon whispered deadly, "And don't touch me."

"What?" Aydin looked surprised, "What did you say?"

"Don't touch me like that," Malon said strongly, tugging her hand free, "Aydin, this may be hard to believe but, this World only started a week ago. Everything before, never happened, those are fake memories. You're not my husband, Aydin; this is the first time we've ever _met_. I don't know you."

"What are you talking about?" Aydin asked, "Malon, you love me. You married me. I love you and I want to protect you. I don't want you to die-"

"Stop lying, dammit!" Malon shot viciously, "None of that is true! Don't you get it?! _We're not real…_Link is the only real-" 

Aydin grabbed her fiercely, and hissed, "How do you know? How did you find out? No one is supposed to know _that._"

Malon smiled wryly, "Nimbus told me." She snatched her purse off the table and escaped, dashing down the street as the world started to breathe again around her.

_Mrs. Kit is corrupted. The darkness has taken her. I am sorry, Aydin, but you must fulfill your trust to me. Kill Link. Follow her. _The voice echoed all around, coming from the walls, the tiles, the windows and the clerk behind the counter.

_Nothing can be done. Drastic measures must be taken. Nothing can be done…_

---

"Wake up!" Dark Link struck his twin's sharply across the face, "wake up, dammit! I'm not stupid, I _know_ you can hear me!"

"What's he doing in there?" Navi asked, newly dressed in a too-big T-shirt and jeans hanging _way_ past her ankles. She was sitting with Jean at the table in Malon's lemon-and-chocolate kitchen, the both of them sipping hot cocoa filched from the good doctor's disturbingly neat pantry.

"Waking Link up, I think," Jean answered.

"It's taking a long time," Navi said. "Should we help?"

"Get up, you lazy ass! _I mean it!!"_ Dark Link interjected.

"…Maybe not," Jean sighed, refilling Navi's cocoa mug.

Back in the family room, separated from the kitchen by a very handy wall, Dark Link was stressed. Shouting was proving to be a rather ineffective method and he was running out of ideas.

"Look, you _have_ to wake up, I don't care how damn peaceful it is _in there_, people still need you _out there_!" Dark Link crawled onto the couch, punching Link kind-of-not-really-lightly in the stomach before sitting on him, "I'm only going to say this one more time-Hyrule is _real._ Zelda is _real._ The Sages are _real._ Sadly, even Ganondorf is _real._ And you are _real! _I know a lot of time you wish Hyrule wasn't real, because 'real' hurts, but there's nothing you can do about it except try and change it so reality doesn't hurt as much anymore!" Dark Link stood up again and grabbed Link's shirt, tugging the unconscious teenager up to face-level, " And you're sure as hell not getting anywhere by sitting here and thinking that it really isn't real and it all has finally gone away! Don't be stupid, Link!" Dark Link flung his twin back on the couch and waited, nothing. No stirring, no sighing, Link didn't even snort, it was like yelling at a dead man…or a wall.

"Fine, if you won't listen to reason, then…" Dark Link wrenched his sword sloppily from the scabbard, "you made me do this! I'm going to send you back to Hyrule, the only way I know how…" He readied the dark blade and slid it over Link's forearm, drawing blood slowly as it sunk through muscle, grinding against the bone.

"If you don't wake up, Link, I'm going to cut your arm off. And then, I'll cut your other arm off, and after that, your legs too, and if you still don't wake up, I'm going to cut your head off because you must be dead!"

---

Link startled as the entire angel around him shuddered, the quiet clouds of light settled on him suddenly very heavy, _No, you must sleep. To keep you safe, you must be asleep._

"WAKE UP!" roared the pain in his arm, as flesh, muscle and tendons shattered in red fireworks.

"Stop…you'll drive the angel away," Link muttered, lifting the uninjured arm slightly. Dark Link halted, _'Angel?'_ he smirked, "There we go! Now, we're getting somewhere!"

"Leave me alone," Link muttered tiredly, blood leaking sluggishly from the massive gash discoloring his arm, "I want to sleep…"

"I can't do that," Dark Link said, "you have to get out of this place! Link! Link! Listen to me! What kind of Angel tries to kill you?!"

"I trust him," Link moaned, drifting in and out of sleep, "he needs me to trust him."

"'Trust him'? What kind of Angel needs you to trust him in order to protect you?! I'd think that would just come natural, don't you!? Now _wake up!_ This world isn't real! Wake up!"

"Then what is _real?!_" Link rocketed up at Dark Link and gripped his coat, "Who are you to tell me what's real and what's not?! Can't I make that decision for myself?!"

"You can't!" Dark Link growled, shoving Link, "You can't because you don't _know_! As you are now, you can't know because you don't want to know! So you must be told! Link, this world and everything that has happened to you inside it, is not real! You're dreaming it all up-"

"How do you know…how do you know that Hyrule isn't a dream? And maybe this place is…real-"

"Because I've seen them both," Dark Link told him, "Hyrule is more real than this flawed place could ever be! And you're running out of time, the poison is coming to deal the final blow soon, you have to wake up!"

---

"That was easier than I'd expected," Trian breathed, the horse and cargo safely beneath the portcullis on the north end of the Gerudo Sand River.

"Don't relax yet," Soara said, patting the horse good-naturedly, "we still have a ways to go, right, Sheik?" The tall Sheikiah nodded solemnly as the party moved through the Gerudo camp. The two men were watchful of the soldiers walking the sandstone barricades as they slunk by hidden in black cloaks, Soara the only one allowed to walk in the open.

"Many of the officers have been called away to Ganondorf's headquarters," Trian said, "these girls are all privates-"

"_Malachai!"_ as a young, frightened, _female_ voice dashed out of the fortress and seized Soara's arm. Trian jumped and Sheik suffered a tiny heart attack.

"Thank Goddess, Malachai!" the girl said, relief melting her to tears, "It's Dierna! All the healers are away, we sent a messenger-goddess, I didn't think you'd get here in time!"

"Hold up," Soara said, freeing herself from the youngster's grip, "What's wrong?"

"Dierna's having her _baby!_" the girl scolded, as if it were the most obvious knowledge of all time, "we have to hurry!"

Soara grimaced and touched Trian's shoulder, "I'll be a minute, don't let _anyone_ near the cart." 

"Yes, Malachai," Trian said.

"Where's she going?" Sheik asked, "we have to-"

"To deliver a baby," Trian deadpanned.

"…That'll take a minute?!"

"This way, Malachai," the girl-child said, ducking into a shaded room crowded with blankets, perfumes, a pregnant woman and one very useless nurse.

"Evening, Malachai," the swollen woman said weakly.

"Evening, Dierna," Soara returned, touching a practiced hand to the rise of her belly, "I can't tell you how inconvenient a time this is to have your baby."

Dierna grinned, "You're telling me-I had a Royal Flush-"

"Gambling isn't good for the baby, Dierna," the younger lectured as Soara smiled slightly.

"Oh hush up, Linna, cards are teaching my girl risk!" Dierna said defensively.

"Quiet both of you," Soara laughed, "It's almost time."

Outside in the arctic desert air, Sheik's eyes darted restlessly around the empty stronghold as purple-clad soldiers with clouds of breath puffing from behind their kerchiefs walked the grounds in systematic circles.

"I don't like this," Sheik said in a raspy whisper, "We shouldn't delay-"

"Can't help it, sir," Trian said, "if the Malachai didn't go, it'd look suspicious."

"She has a name, you know."

"Malachai is a title of respect."

"Anyway, can't you feel it though? Something's coming."

Ripples shifted through the flock of watchmen as thief dressed in red appeared from the mangled shadows of the valley, "Riders approach, from the East. We think it's-"

Trian jerked his head up, "What? What did they say?"

"They said 'Corpse Bird,'" Sheik repeated.

"No, not _her_-"

"Go get Soara. We have to leave now."

Trian nodded and hurried into the fortress, sprinting down sand-colored cobblestones to the private room in the upper reaches where Soara tended to her patient. The dulcet, stingy smell of medicine distinguishable doors away.

"Congratulations, Dierna," Soara said, wrapping a tiny infant in soft things, "It's a healthy baby girl."

"Thank you, Malachai," Dierna said, "I'm going to name her Cynia."

"Very pretty," Soara said quickly, "now I must be going! Tata!" She escaped into the almost-empty hall and slammed into Trian.

"Trian?" Soara gasped, "what are you doing here! I told you to stay by the cart!"

Trian tugged Soara to her feet, speaking rapidly, "We have to go now. The Corpse Bird is-" Soara's eyes grew wide as the Hylian towed her to the nearest exit, thinking dimly, _'Corpse Bird? That's Morcades…Morcades is here?'_

The pair burst into the night air, gasps of foggy breath clouding their faces.

"Lady Malachai," a shadow darkened the center of the barren courtyard, even the frail moonlight couldn't touch it. Ribbons of night-colors whispered and flowed in a large cloak worn by a very tall individual, sharp Gerudo features shaped her face but she was remarkably pale with icy-asphalt eyes. A long, evil-looking scythe dangling casually over one shoulder as the woman smiled, "Going so soon?"

"Trian-get back to the cart," Soara ordered and the boy wasted no time racing back to Sheik's side, "Been a while, Morcades, no hello?"

"Hello, Soara," Morcades said grimly, sinking her scythe to the ground before crossing her arms seriously over her chest, "I know what you are doing, Soara, what you are planning to do and what you have done."

"Drat," Soara muttered dryly, "And here I thought I was being sneaky-"

Morcades stalked up the smaller woman, her cloak billowing with long, mystic whorls; "Soara, I've been sent to collect you. The King is sad to say that you have defied his orders and you are a traitor to all Gerudo-kind."

"It was my decision," Soara said, gently resistive, "I did what I thought was right."

"Were those deeds truly just, Sister? Don't you know the consequences-"

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child! I know them and knowing them, Morcades, I still made my decision!"

Morcades fell quiet, feeling the touchy grounds surrounding the discussion, before lifting her face to see Soara fully.

"There is still time for you, Soara," Morcades said flatly, "A very terrible death can be avoided. The King is willing to forgive you and wipe your name clean of the crimes that stand against it. All he asks in return is that you give him the Hero of Time-"

"No!" Soara shot icily, "If I wanted that boy to die I would have left him at the mercy of the Desert but I made a choice and I am prepared to live that choice through!"

Morcades shrugged lightly, "Suit yourself, Soara, I had hoped it wouldn't come to this but as Lord Ganondorf's personal executioner, I cannot promise that you or any of your companions will make it out of this fortress alive."

Soara hardened, "That's just too bad."

"And it is a sad day," Morcades said drearily.

Fin of chapter 14 

Another one behind me, hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are always welcome and believe it or not, Harsh Reality will have something of sequel but the only relation between the two stories will be that Soara and the other Hyrule-world original characters will be part of the story again. Link's second nap won't really be important and you can pretty much understand the second story without reading Harsh Reality. Expect it sometime in September or earlier unless my muse abandons me again. (. She's really annoying that way…)

Anywho, again, R&R!

Zel 

(PS - If you were worried, the UPS man did not eat my Trigun DVDs, I finally got them last Monday. Unfortunately my glasses snapped in half the same day…as I was loading the first DVD too!!! . Damn the luck!)


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